i am looking for the key to the door
of inner peace
i ask you and you do not know
you are busy with your grandchildren
i look at other people's faces
they do not look at me
i cannot find this key to any of your places
and faces
i look inside myself
open the door to myself
i live here now
away from all of you
for in truth what do you care about my place?
you have yours to cater
you have your own garden of
grandchildren and memories
mine is just today
and it shall make all my days busy.
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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