Patterns of knowing, falling into cauldrons of settling
moments, bringing about callings of nature in it's most
wondrous moments.
Embracing tears in cobwebs of maturity, tantalizing
embryos of novels to open and begin existing in welcome
dialects of literature.
To be read in future edicts of reality, sitting upon
it's steps on a stairway to imagination's subconscious-
ness every moment.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem