the path today is dusty
slowly, i walk and you pass by
on the same direction
you walk past me like you are in a rush for something
you're fast that is what you want to tell me
i do not really mind for you do not exist at all
i am thinking of pebbles. They are unmoved.
They are faceless. They are saying more important things
than your speed, your fast paced conclusions,
you think that you are as high as a cliff, and unreachable by the worm
you are wrong, i may have been drifting like a cloud
i gather rain and then i feed all that thirst on the earth
i vanish soon leaving no mark. That is all that i really wanted.
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.
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