10: 18 a.m.
Memories awakening, sometimes sprouting new ideas and
concepts with dream-like rhythms.
Stepping into and out of fantasies, this imagination
rising like the sun in a morning sky, fresh and new,
having been refreshed by sleep.
Watching as the sprouts begin growing at an exceptional
rate, soon having grown into a garden of beautiful new
thoughts blossoming in intellect and knowledge.
Giving this interior universe even more to work with
through poetry, writing in my sleep, thoughts righting
themselves as I awaken and immediately start writing
the poems of my interior dreams on paper.10: 19 a.m.
5/23/15 RoseAnn V. Shawiak
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem