Construing many images in moments of time, staying focused
through musical rhymes that keep coming from an interior
waterfall.
Always flowing, falling over the edge as pictures land in
pools below, forming themselves into a new poem, setting
onto intellect's photographic screens.
There it can then be written into poetry journals, filling
page after page with poems, never tiring, in fact interior
energy coming faster and more explicit.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem