Searching the heavens, seeing beauty above, looking towards
my mind, seeing a blackness, a tunnel, the past.
Some memories would like to slice others in half just to
see what will unfold.
Crystals will be exposed, like ugly rocks, sometimes hiding
inside.
There are so many venues to try, too many unanswered whys.
Slice of heaven held gently to our hearts, helps to delicately
hold on to reality when we'd rather depart from it.
To ends of life, folded within, contemplating daily, the worth
of dying and living.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem