when the well is full
the water gets free and can
soon make choices
away from that dark
hole of its
existence,
it can choose the canal
and be with the river's
conduit
or it can choose to seep back
and be with the
silence of the bottom
reunited
there is the kind
that confronts the heat
and evaporates
to join the gods in heaven
and be the
pure rain again
somehow it gets heavy
in there
and here it is
inside my palm
to fill the thirst
of my tongue
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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