you get a handful of mud
add a little rain
and then you begin shaping
a face
carefully you put some
tenderness
shaping forgiveness and
mold integrity
you stop for a while
figuring out what is missing
your heart is heavy
filled with the usual burden
of love
you pour love
a basin of water
to a thirsty ground
something is broken
and you finally regret
what you have been doing
yet you begin anew
on a handful of mud
reshaping regret
forming another face
this time
more beautiful
it has hope & courage
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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