9 August 2023, limburg
Beyond the eloquent and poetic brawl of clouds
I see a poem emerging,
through yellow, green and purple.
I sit and write,
a circular and organic poem about an avocado,
I already hear a stringless harp, resonating through all its cells and fibres,
I pause, stand and walk again,
I see someone on the road, a stranger, an outsider maybe?
I think in the first place:
His smile, leisurely, depicts meeting myself somehow.
It’s the magic of poetry that you can see yourself,
In syntax and imagery, beyond our visions.
The purple skin of an avocado is identical to the soil,
so is poetry akin to a mother,
Poetry is the soil.
I see life as an avocado:
birth, growth and decay,
If you breathe deeply, you’ll see,
life’s adversity, ease and care in an avocado.
The colours of poetry are to shield our eyes,
from density of despair.
Don’t let the weather undermine your poetic potential!
The first and least crucial principle, in this case, is:
Before going outside to walk your poems,
wash your hair first and put on your shoes, lacing properly!
Take one, peel it and see if I’m not wrong!