Life is a blank white screen until our vision and senses are awakened from their tombs.
Focusing on their entirety, blessing their individual reasons for being.
Quietly being immersed in interpretations of grey matter, inspiring talent to become itself while on earth.
Saving promises of gifts closely in hearts of memory as our souls are spent in heavenly rhythms of purity.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem