A Poet In Search of Poem

In search of poem I borrowed a pot from my mind filled it bit by bit to the brim with the pictures I brought from the distant lands with the colors sun splashes on the morning sky with the stories of toil and success of many I met with the tears of mothers who see their children die with the hopes of the distressed who face the tempest with the smile of the child who plays with the toy with the broken dream of the girl whose lover had gone with the fragments of time when living was a joy. I picked nascent words from my heart and sowed them in the pot. The words lay deep within me buried in the dark niche of uncertainty of being said or not said and heard or not heard for long. When the time came to return the pot I found the words I sowed expecting nothing had grown into swarming saplings trying to reach the sky on tender branches so thin that butterflies could break soaking the summer sun on the supple leaves so small that the soft squall could shred. I returned the pot I borrowed planted the saplings in my memory backyard neglected so long I didn’t know it existed. When imagination showered the wasteland like rain the saplings grew into plants under the sun full of branches strong and long studded with green and brown leaves tangled with motifs the words of heart can weave decked with flowers red and white spreading sweet smell the words of soul can transmit all arranged to create the design of being all connected to compose the rhyme of life I call my poem I write for you.