you compose a poem,
but you do not know,
the poem too composes
you, and you are composed,
and piece by piece you
gain some form of confidence
your words start with anxiety,
a life that is trying to seek
a shape, color, scent, a kind
of meaning, asking such
questions as why am i here?
you compose a poem
you work by the gut, by the
feel of that poem and then the
poem works on you too, it
feels you and gives you life
too, the life perhaps which
you lost a while, a beat, a pulse,
a memory, a moment, a song,
a verse, and then as you go
along, a song sings you too,
a verse recites you, a poem
makes you, telling you, stay,
stay and be with me, do not
go, stay, feel me, i am real.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem