there is no birdthat spends its lifetime
in a nest
there is no nest made
of concrete
the fledglings look forward
to the pain of its first wing
there is always the first push
and the fall
and there is the innate way
of learning how to fly
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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