Standing in the garden of my grave,
contemplating nature through my being.
Wanting a reprieve from all the sadness
enveloping me in a whiteness of silence.
Taking turns with subconsciousness and
imagination, sitting on the circumference
of time, looking in, wondering where I
will end up and what I'll be doing in the
purpose of my interior life.
Stillness, causing me to look about,
watching options flow before me, knowing
God is using my poetry, even in ways I
may never know.
Contemplating the essence I have within,
celebrating it's gifts of artistic grace.
(2/22/13)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem