the reenactment is over
the tears of the rivers all evaporating
as bouquets of air
offerings to the sad sky
in our clothes seeping are the promises
of the underwear
we say we have learned a lot
in the silent journey inside us
we grasp for a new breath
it is purer and cleaner and refreshing
we were dead and so we rise up again
new sons and daughters
from our hair the white petals grow
from the gray clouds a sun reborn smiles
we are now ready for the 8th word
unspoken but we know what it is
still and ever shall be: love.
These are poetic experiments. Man's quest for the poetic element never ceases. He is always caught in the eye of awe. He does not make the rules now. The rules change depending on the emotion that time and space feed him. He must see everything with his wide eyes gaping. The beginning of poetry too, like philosophy is wonder. Look and see. Do not stop wondering You are the poet. And everything is poetry. Wonder. Wander.
No comments:
Post a Comment