Treasure Island

RIC S. BASTASA


Passivity


it is different now
gone where the days when i pursue a dream
forcefully

bombarding walls and breaking doors
and jumping even from high windows

it is futile
forcing ourselves is infantile

ah, the flower does not move
for unlike the birds it has no beak and claws and wings

yet, the sun loves it more than anybody else
slowly unfolding, its petals passive to the caress of the wind

there is no work to be done
a dream unfolds,

we watch with all anticipation
there, there is the satisfaction

Submitted: Sunday, May 06, 2012
Edited: Monday, May 07, 2012
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