RIC S. BASTASA


The World Changes Itself Without Myself


i know that there is something wrong
like a stain of black clouds in the sky

like a shattered glass on the floor
or the white paint in your hair

but i, just like those days, never mind
those wrongs, - i just watch them

hopelessly, upon the idea that nature
itself shall correct it, - that changes

simply come like rain to drought, like
mist upon the grassy hills, - i leave

things as they are, for who am i? who am i?
to change this world, to love and change you?

i know that there is something wrong here,
but i just do my own thing, - i am

this spectator, this traveler, and i do not
stop in order to waste my time upon all these

the world spits its lava, the tsunami comes
upon a clear day, quakes tremble this earth

storms rage, fires burn, the world crumbles,
and when i come back, i shall only see

a clear pond of water, a calm river, a cooler earth,
a green mountain, a sunny day, a peaceful night

myriad stars come again for their twinkling
the moon shines and casts its sheen on the trees.

Submitted: Tuesday, September 18, 2012
Edited: Wednesday, September 19, 2012
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