I just wanna share a poem called..
"The Other Love"...
A sailor is in love with the waves
and eventually like the waves
he becomes a hopeless lover.
A poet is in love with words
and eventually the net of words
traps him from the meaning.
The sea is an infatuating spread
But the sea will not confess its secret
The poet is a passionate writer
But the words can never be uttered
And the self become a summit of mystery.
All creation is a medium to a recognition of the creator
Yet how shall I write a poem of love
So that the medium does not hide the purpose?
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