Time Travel Poem by Hardik Vaidya
Time Travel
The crimson red when Cuprum meets the spirit flame,
Is it the flame that writes me, or do I write the flame?
A moment of thought and it occurs,
I write for All, the all in me and the me in all.
Life bubbles, and forms little puzzles,
Life is not mine, nor yours, it spans,
Jumping one man to another,
From Mind to Mind,
The poem is one vehicle,
Where life does time travel.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/25/2024 9:24:05 PM # 1.0.0.1119
Nice idea! Time travel does life through the vehicle of a poem! Beautiful!