Sunday, March 26, 2017

The Wariers

Who is the artist, here,
Grabbing shoulders with glee,
Reflecting on all that's already done,
By contemporaries,

In a language I've always understood,
Wond'ring, is that enough?
Have they found each other through the labyrinth,
Or are they woven together by love,

Part of a fabric that need not be cut,
To make your way through it,
Rather, there is room to attach yourself,
S'hot you melt like suet?

You become one,
The more the merrier,
May all living in the world be artists,
Then may there no longer be wariers.

No comments: