In that time
When Poetry is coming to me
What is the shape
What is the size
Who is there to say
I am okay
As I desire;
How many poems have I written?
Who is there to explain it from the beginning?
Who is there to question and to ponder?
Only poetry can be enjoyed like the sight of a gazelle;
No one is here to judge
Only poetry can answer poetry.
I have eyes, I can see;
I have ears, I can hear;
I have hands but what can I offer?
Nothing, Nothing, Nothing, answers the sky,
And it is echoing in the air in the life
And in the timeless sentences
You are uttering, not uttering,