Poem--The Abstract Art
When you tell me – O dear,
A poem you read-- I read it, there
I find a pearl hidden in a shell—
Relaxed and placid,
I read it because a lot more life there I find
Like some playful white swans are
In deep intimacy in a sun-drenched lake,
When you tell me—‘find me in your poem,’
I look for you in every word of my poem,
In the poem I find sometime the sadness of
A hollow, pensive heart, wherein
Songs are sung in an articulate moan!
In the poem often I find the truth —
A lonely homeless man sleeps on the hard
Sidewalk in a wintry cold night, for him
A poem becomes an abstract art of cruel reality!
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