When my mind becomes impregnated
I just can't help but wonder
what ambitious new undertaking
could lead my thoughts asunder.
In such a case I have to wait
for details to conclude
while my unfinished idea-to-be
continues to brood.
At this point, I meet a block that I must face within.
Still, I am useless
until the labor pains begin.
My mind then takes the newborn form
of the idea itself
so that it can produce an end
of great creative wealth.
(07/12/09)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem