The source....

Under the shivering water
As the stone rattles
In the face of the reflections that form
A poem is born….

Under the dead sky
In the subtle moon-light
As the shadow down the window forms
A poem is born….

As the child cries
With its first whisper in the life
In the mist of mother’s eyes that forms
A poem is born….

In the feel of a constant presence
In the solitude and silence,
In the inseparable union that forms
A poem is born….

In the emptiness of the juggling clocks
Ticking through the sand that rocks
Under the marks of the roads
Traveled un-traveled by unspoken modes
On the dust of the mind
Far ahead of the paper with the ink-form
The best poems are born
The best poems are born….