Poetry

Unable to conceive. 
The theme had not arrived─ 
near the mouth. 
It was agonizingly close, 
Before and after the storm. 
A dharma had failed. 
 
Law of the land: 
first a sprint, 
then a strained voice. 
You lend your voice to 
a surrogate throat. 
The audience roared. 
 
Star by star, you walk 
in dust. The search goes to 
find the unknown, who takes 
a big stride and leaves 
gaint foot-prints 
in dark.