Poezja

Shredding begins.
One by one all the leaves fall, like disrobing.
 
The words hang around, the naked soul.
You have to catch
the essence.
 
Deep in the sea―
lies the earth like pain. It
rises― when you prod―
 
to recover the intensity.
The center and tangent,
both, cry.
 
Perception comes, when
you break the ―
giant silence, searching for a poem.