Twinkling stars of time past are stirring this mind with a
touch of class as it's being tempted in the throes of each
instrument played.
Taking on exacting visions of thought devised in passages
and tunnels of time once again, touching pleasure senses
of this brain.
Titillating and enticing every particle, synapse and neuron
with blessings from above that are flowing down upon us here
tonight at Desert Ridge.
Solitude in writing, yet in a crowd dispersed throughout the
mall, everyone enjoying the music, hearing or seeing nothing,
just writing within a bluened light.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem