For Its Kite To Fly And Perhaps Touch Its Sky. Poem by RIC BASTASA

in you
everything is well
ironed out

there is no place
for doubt

skepticism is a
taboo

well, there is
also fear which is

accordingly the
beginning of wisdom

the doubt, the doubter
which leads us

to conclude about our
being thinkers and

existent, plainly,
the valley comes to

the mountainous mind
a river flows, music

comes in the strings of
leaves and reeds

white birds in the sky
clouds and cottons and

a child's head coming
out the car seeing a

kite, another child running
on the grass

for its kite to fly
and perhaps touch its sky.