again this is just an outpouring
of rain
all my loneliness dropping like
rain
all my sadness dripping
like rain
again, this is nothing about
anthologies
or who gets the Poet of the Month
thing
in any community magazine
this is rain outpouring
this is a form of therapy
on everyday malady
nothing about art or musing
when tomorrow rains again
i will be here
when sunshine comes and
flowers bloom in the field
when my beloved sings and
sleeps with me in bed
why should i be here?
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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