Morosely fidgeting with a pen, thinking deeply in many
compositions of my own creation.
Soliciting interpretations of all levels of translations
in a host of musical languages in every key.
Minor chords especially, attaching themselves to matters
of the mind.
Collecting and pulling together, remainders and remnants
of yesterday's fabrics of life.
Somnolent sentiments taking me quietly on a journey of
existential beauty.
Going though elements of chemistry, balancing every
reaction against tomorrow's manifestations of inherent
intellectual imagination.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem