Memory of life is quietly awaiting it's time in
the chapel of my soul, Preparing, nurturing,
growing to maturity, silently within.
Whispers of greatness gifts will attain, echoes
about hallways of my soul, not sliding about or
interfering with my mind.
Thoroughfares of intellect cascade through
imagination, allowing two separate entities to
join and merge in sublime ecstasy of wisdom.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem