we thought we know because time has been so kind with us
we were silent though and pretended that what we know cannot hurt us
we were wrong
for every thing learned there is always a price to pay
pain in exchange of some nuggets of wisdom
anxiety for every knowledge that comes our way
those that do not desire to know are too lucky
they simply wait and do not worry at all
things come to them and they explain themselves
they simplify and what they do is just listen
they are not interested and they are not harmed
yes, look at those pigs, they do not know what pearls are
they do not have any worry that soon those who pretend to care for them
shall butcher them and eat them and feast for all of them
now do you regret that we are the cream of the crop of the worriers?
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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