THE POET

It's hard to trap a moment now
But still the poet does somehow
If one slips by he lets it pass
Respect of cool, colors glass

The pain of life is filled with sun
For one is all and all is one
Children of the stars paint verse
Praise be love and praise be curse

A flow of light from light to source
The poet knows of this of course
A wilderness of thought and vine
Of paper pen and verse and line

Love can't harmonize
Or shape a truth few realize
How blind in silent cries
How deaf and dumb are empty eyes

Abstraction is the truth set free
In music art and poetry
Interwoven contrast are
The shades and shadows of the star