The poet must rise and, in all opposition to the mediocrity of those living with eyes closed, must claim with a child’s wonder: I AM.
And to be is never dull and unworthy of our attention.
Every passing second grants us the deepest mysteries that can never be too highly esteemed.
From the rustling of blades of grass in the wind to the farthest kindling galaxies; from the ordinary to the extraordinary; existence in its entirety marvels the beholder.
A poet’s awareness is nothing more than a child’s wonder.
A requirement: the capacity to remain silent and observe passionately at what IS.
In that womb of silence we are all bound to become children, poets and philosophers;
Quietly revering the performance of an universe that will forever astonish us-
The humble spectators of the Great Unknown.