I think writing poems is about tracking down
Who you are when completely alone.
Not being assessed by anyone,
Not answering to anyone.
It’s about the part of you that doesn’t belong,
The One who has no place in the World,
The One with a foothold in Eternity.
The One who cannot be found
In the files of a single Government Department.
The One who can’t even be bothered to have an Identity!
It’s about the possibility of a myriad completed souls,
Instead of all these broken hearts, afflicted minds,
And crestfallen, disused selves.
It’s like looking for Bigfoot or the Yeti:
Something forgotten and left behind,
Making its odd whistling sound.
Or the Snow Leopard; rare, threatened,
Living carefully above the Snow Line.
It’s like stepping off the edge of the world.
It’s like putting out to sea at night
From a busy commercial port,
And you’re never coming back.
