when sleep does not visit you
till 11:30 in the evening
you take your time waiting for it
as you dabble in poetry
here is a friend that understands you
and listens to what you are talking
in that cautious silence of his metaphors
the evening becomes a romance of one soul
and one body all contented in the grace
and beauty of the gift of thoughts
and words
he toasts that imagined glass of wisdom
filled with that wine of air
and then the laughter that spreads
that no one hears
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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