the world has nothing to
do with rain
neither shall it be given credit
for the sunshine
on its roundness and within
its own orbit
it settles upon its well founded
indifference
the rain stops, the sunshine
shuts itself at night
the world still spins
and we keep counting upon
its continuing
revolution
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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