Hoping For The Fire.... Poem by RIC BASTASA

so we feel
so we care more about what we feel
it is not what we know
or what we are capable of knowing
in this field where we are
a flock of birds
a heap of leaves
a mound of earth
we care more about what is there and
not on what will come
or what next
we are these feelings ourselves
wet and dry, arid, humid, moist and soft
and hard and braided,
rubbed against a wall or a stone to
another stone
imagining a flint and then hoping for the
fire....