always, shall i be
held at this hour,
always, finishing
what is composed
by the dawns of
my mind, always,
must i be a servant
of the greatness of
whispers, this and
that, an image after
another, hour after
hour, and when the
sun shines,
the fingers of light
caress my forehead,
i shall stand and
walk, under the trees,
contemplating and
so fulfilled.
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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