when you start cleaning the ground
pulling the grass and cutting some trees
removing the stones
and throwing some snails
and shoveling some soil
when you point at the spot
where you put the first post
of a new beginning
you feel like some new reason
justifying another round
of your existence
something inside your heart claps
they are not definitely like hands
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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