Moving rhythmically in motion, settling carefully inside, taking steps forward as life retracts itself from earth.
Sensing a deepening of death's insistence, allowing it to gather and envelope this being in it's tight grasp.
Lightening quick flames fan themselves, producing ideas and meanings of interior solitude, existing momentarily on shores of tides, ebbing and flowing in rhythm with lunar beams from another atmosphere.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem