we keep on untangling
the vines
that choke us
each hand has
no place on the
secrecy of old time's
breast
it is the season of
freedom
freedom from roots
and barks
tasting the bitterness
of what this self
has inflicted upon
its flesh
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