The Imagination of Contemporary Poet

For years the way goes north And turns away till its round Thousand of hundreds it may take For the right word to be found It comes to a master piece And the world will cherish his memories The years may change so may the seasons Leaves may die, get a new life, and fill out the naked trees Yet he smiles his way in the white floor With his dynamic thoughts and hands For it may be just a while Until again he joins his fellow sands