Easter 1 Poem by RIC BASTASA

we think that the enigma
of the magma beneath is the
definition of perfection

for something that we pretend
we know
we give a ten
for it delights us
no end

deep within us
are trenches of falsities
flaw upon flaw
we bury the clarity of our
mind there

we think about what we
never understood
and we raise our hands
to all these images

delighted that there are
still unfathomable oceans
and undiscovered earths
beyond us
we continue on this journey
of the unknown

all these make us alive
hopes grow like flowers in the
grassy fields of our hearths

the idea is this earth is not
alone
we share the bounty of planets
in illimitable spaces

how can we be alone? and how
can we equate it with loneliness?
my familiarity can be wrong
and mystery is always right