My hobbies as a teenager were art and sports. A strange feature of my life was that I've had many dangerous accidents and close calls, all of which I escaped with a few scratches. For me, poems are friends and poetry has always been an aesthetic comfort and a healing force. Poetry is infused with endless ideas and enticing mysteries. It is romance, reality and mysticism.
Poetry is one of the noblest creations of the human mind.
My mind is full of one old cherry tree, Whose branches I climbed as a child in quest Of my then slumbering identity. In rich green shimmering with silver flame, The dusky cherries bursting with the life And love that saturate the cosmic frame. Leaf, branch and fruit are wounded not with strife, But shine with nature's unencumbered joy. Alas, the canker reappears anon, And minds me that the storm of hate howls on. The strident epochs drown, but you remain With your colossal bulk.