Wandering in and out, floating on the ocean's surface,
being tossed about on waves, whether calm or in a storm
doesn't matter.
Loving the turmoil of nature, it suits me fine, gives
joy to feel it's essence touching mine, yet, storms of
life through pain, suffering worry, loneliness, turn
my stomach into knots.
Listening to music, writing poetry, relieving anxiety,
tension and stress constantly, beginning with the very
first note of rhythm.
Continuing as I write hour after hour, losing self in
depths of spirituality where life is freed from my being
altogether.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem