Once I Called All Poets To Come, They Came

Once I called all poets to come, they came And sat in judgment upon me With my silence I hid their shame And watched them toasted their misery Tell me, did then the vision of the poet failed? Can human only know their own history Was the larel of our friendship quailed? Are we but blind savants of prophecy? The maggot was an egg when the fruit was green The ripening gold seduces its birth For all love’s glory let me walk between The flowering grass and the dew of earth