Bonsai of Thoughts: Seven

1. I heard you're scribbling poetry with pen on paper, is that so?
O band of fools, poetry must be written with heart held in hand below!

2. Paint me crimson with your red hue;
Today I wish to wake anew,
Come, shatter this slumber I've been sleeping through!

3. - Poet, what does love look like to the eye?
- Like water catching fire in the sky!

4. Let me go now, ask me not to stay, for I must answer God's summons today!

5. I've observed quite clearly—you've scrutinized everything except me with care.
Tell me, what crime must I commit to catch your stare?

6. The whole world smiled watching only our parting scene.
But I see how tightly my soul clings to yours, what does this mean!

7. Why do you come weeping at my grave each day?
When I lived, did you ever think me human in any way!?

8. Why didn't you come to me before?
Without you I merely passed time, never truly lived—not for a moment more!

9. If I slip and fall, will you extend your hand to me?
Will you bathe at noon in the tears I set free?

10. How much I love you, only my God can tell.
If I must prove it, what's the worth of such love's spell!?

11. - Poet, I too want to write poetry. Will I succeed?
- Long ago you would have, if you knew how to weep indeed!

12. Between you and me lies an ocean's span.
Better I should drown—that's the only plan!

13. Why do you needlessly try to wield that knife?
I'm already drowning in your eyes, losing life!

14. - Poet, I understand neither my lover's spoken words nor the language of his heart!
- Your lover speaks through eyes, stores meaning there apart,
When weary of words' weight, his gaze falls earthward to restart.

15. Secretly he'd watch me stretch and wake at dawn's first light,
He'd say nothing at all, so bashful and shy from sight!

16. - Poet, I love him dearly, what should I do now?
- Go far from him. Distance is what love wants, somehow.

17. - Poet, why do you write through the sleepless night?
- So after my death you might discover poetry as a painkiller's light!

18. - Do you alone birth all these beautiful verses that flow?
- Nothing can be born alone, poetry's mother's name is 'sorrow'!

19. Like fever breaking through sweat, I found relief at last,
And caught the sweet disease of writing poems of love so vast.

20. Not all who stay awake through night are poets, it's true,
Some must keep vigil through darkness to become poetry too!