understanding need not be imagined
injection of what should have been is useless
we are the players and the strings are on the air
the spectator does not show how much it controls us
at first we think we have the anchor and the steer
we think our paddles are strong our engines well fueled
nay, nay, we are not even shadows of his power
when he says we step out we step out
one feels it now when one becomes weak so weak
as all the forces are removed from within
there are compasses of our mere existence
we do not think finally that we have the right to live at all
days are tricks the nights are magic
the hat is black and what comes out is the white rabbit
it is the usual story of a magician deceiving us with the speed of his hands
our sights have always been losers
Friday, when others fly away he is pushed on the wall
curls in bed, chants the words that no one understand
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