Life is here. Did you ask why it is here?
Did you bother to know what is its real name?
Life is here. I never ask it to stay.
It stays anyway.
When it leaves, i have nothing to pack.
I leave with it. I do not leave a name.
Life has wings. Got mine too freely given.
Broken wings. Stained with my own blood.
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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