in the past sense of my wordsshe had not seen the lilacs when they once bloomed in her garden
i swear they are so beautiful hanging on their stalks surrounded by their heart
shaped leaves
like a bouquet offering of spring
for the first rain
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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