Show me Some of your Poetry

Show me some of your poetry - the verses
that take flight on mornings where the sun melts
a mountain’s fog-robed forest

Let me touch the parts that prolong themselves
into forming images inside me, I want to be
at the moment where they are born as words
Show me some of those, some of these
Show me the bits that were once leftovers
But have now grown into stories - show me

some of your poetry - the verses
that dissolve into the sea like a sun
and reappear as tides that come and go
teasing a coast otherwise silent to you

Let me see where you store yourself for later
regathering and recollection, where the river
cuts across the land as leading lines for cranes
migrating from one season to another, carrying
wisdom from your past lives onto your page
Show me some of those letters, show me
the cursive scribbles that are a maze of people,
further archived as longing, coming to the surface
to breathe for an instant, every now and then
as printed poems