Beautifully To Air Poem by RIC BASTASA

i still wish that i can write like how the fingers of sunshine handle the pen of light

majestic strokes on fragile leaves of dawn
where emotions begin to wake up like sprouts of mongo beans from their

coats, oh

i still dream to be a weaver of rain from the heavens
pouring out the magnificence of something pure and untouched


by the ordinariness of all thoughts
(i dream that one day, i can do it without the use of words

where inks and blots are invisible yet emitting
the scents of glorious sounds) where

you think that what i am saying is the ugliness of
irrationality,

someday we will see what we have not seen and yet so near
to the lusciousness of our lips

the tenderness of our hands, the gentleness of our essence
like breaths that we

in these cold years have surrendered beautifully to
air.