Looking through books, reading wisdom and knowledge of
learned men and women of the past.
Being at times, fascinated by what pearls of intellect
are written there.
Waiting to be picked by someone willing to accept them
into their lives, using them to move forward.
In another universe, like buds of flowers being picked
and grown within.
Watching them blossom fully when my own thoughts gently
begin feeding them.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem