We find ourselves in tubes
Hallways, roads, walkways
Rivers, flowing into tributaries
Classrooms, workplaces, homes (with more hallways still)
We move until we are found by stillness
An inlet, where motion becomes just another option
Then, motivated by the unseen
We detach
Releasing the firm grasp of safety we float down stream
Lead by the infallible power of the current
Held tightly, we waltz
To the music of our choosing
We flow to the river’s mouth
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem