You think you know me.
You assume I'm like you.
You fix me in my time and place
As if you're visiting a zoo.
You see me through a glass
Reflected or transluced.
And take your notes
Or write your poems
But you don't see me as I am.
Scribbles on a note sheet
Words in faded pen
Are no more representative
Of all I am than
My stitches in a hem.
Not all I thought was written down.
Not all I wrote was kept.
Not every line reflects my life
Not every word was meant.
I am not a diarist.
I do not confess.
I choose the voices in which to speak
And whom I would address.
Some may call it fantasy.
A lady playing games.
I insist it's alchemy
I claim my own domain.
I am the Creatrix.
I call forth my world.
I set it down in symbols.
I lay it out in Words.
Few will see the beauty.
Fewer still will accept the proof.
But this Universe of Poetry
Is all I know of Truth.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A fantastic poem! 10++