That 'Poetry Is To Be The Voice Of Others'.... Poem by RIC BASTASA

it is midway
between the path of
light and pond
that goldfish
appears
nearer

the tunnel of the
water from its source
to the receiver
who in turn becomes
another giver and then
another

by now you must have understood
what i have been driving at
this nail
penetrating the soft wood
this hammer
banging

what am i to you
is not really what i am
for i am but a messenger
a medium
of the sufferings of others

i am but a hand opening
catching flakes of snow and light and rain and sun and even lightning

i am but a vessel
where water is poured
hot or cold
or not so warm and not so cold

the xylem and the phloem
the trachea
the larynx and the pipe
the flute and
the straw

i speak now for myself
from all those
that have rested
and those who are still tired
those at war with everyone
and with himself

i am the paper where words
are written
i am the pen where the ink passes through
i am not the thought itself
but i am always what others had been
and will be....