Clouds piled thick in my mind, floating lightly over thoughts
which are tucked safely inside.
Waiting patiently in the lobby of distant ideas, time creeping
by as frozen sheets of ice thickened, turning everything into
the present.
After silently talking and allowing ice to melt just a drip
at a time, the past builds ever so slowly, creating it's
memories and laying them out in my mind.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem