Enjoying peaceful quiet, no talking being done or
expected, increasing in size, roadways of imagination.
Spacious deserts, grasslands, mountains, forests,
filled with fragrant scents and aromas, bringing words
for poems through a natural high to my soul.
Lifting rocks, kicking leaves and pebbles, looking for
mystery words to highlight what I write.
Mysterious edges cutting through white clouds and
landing on runways of imagination where they will soon
alight and take off again in another poem.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem