in loneliness
he
does not know what to do next
all plans are suspended
what he attempted to do fails
upon an empty table lies a
sheet of paper
it is blank
he holds a pen as a matter of habit
he begins to scribble
words begin to enter in his mind
they are his usual guests and
companions for now
the moment he writes them
the paper begins to speak
the pen becomes a boat
the words become friends
and away into the shores and oceans of the
empty paper
to a picnic of new adventures
they all go
later the pen becomes a surfing board
as words too become waves
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem