Sauntering about through dreams of yesterday,
ones so innocent and pure, never any evil
lurking about, not even in shadowed corners
of twilight.
Sacred moments leaving traces of trails into
labyrinths of life, never veering, wanting to
feel serenity of the Holy Spirit.
Leading this poetical spirit into a bluened
light of the Divine where poetry is written.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem