i
a certain garden is in flames
i wonder
who put one of the leaves on fire
she calls it
my garden of wonder
ii
she continues
that her heart can take any form
a grazing grass for goats
a nunnery for spinsters
for the caterpillars, a big leaf
a cradle for a baby
dinner table for two
a handkerchief for tears
iii
he says he only believes in
love
hate is only its absence
where a queue ends
it always ends in the love
of humanity
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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