red dragonfly meets
blue dragonfly one bright
day for these
insignificant dragonflies
do their
tail to tail
love
in mid-air
explosions too
serially
beautiful
in their silent
flights
to be fathomed by
a beautiful woman
with long black hair
and well sculpted
pair of legs,
pressing her head
upon a muscular man's
handsome
chest, her hands on his
navel, his lips on her
flowing hair, softly the winds
caress
like butterflies slowly
fluttering from one flower
to another flower
fair and square, in circles
of eternal travels.
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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