Straining in the best of times, wanting to create
what is felt within so easily, even through total
stress of another time.
Talking, communicating in ways as yet unknown by
others in this life, rising, going higher with
each passing minute.
Locating irregular patterns, pulling them, placing
designs in their depths, wanting to see what will
come about in the long run.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem