Why Do I Write Poems?

As we come to the close of the year All the madness of the year piled in one corner And all the pain dissolved in the festive mood I am reminded by the hand of poetry To stick to the topic of the season It's not easy to lie low with poetry in your being It's almost impossible to keep quite with poetry in your heart I have decided to open up And ask this difficult question Why do I write poetry? I don't know where I get the courage to enter the realm of consciousness With my eyes blindfolded by the intense light of logic I guess I am too foolish to undress myself in public And let my spirit be seen in broad daylight It's foolishness to embark on a journey of the spirit In a world where science has robbed people of the ability to be naked (spirit) We are told every day that we evolved from monkeys and the game is survival of the fittest We are given a body of knowledge foreign to our being (spirit) We are fed test tube information (materialism) And instructed to celebrate the technological advancement of the day We are like zombies stripped of our ability to listen to the Silence within I write poetry because I am not afraid to listen to my being with all of my heart To hold Silence in my being and feel the absence of me (ego) My mind, body and soul all absorbed into the fabric of being - nothingness I write poetry because I have been given a gift of foolishness Every now and then I am allowed to discard all of my acquired knowledge In pursuit of the template of nothingness It's not as hard as people may think To embrace the illogical and be part of eternity I write poetry because humanity has descended into the thick pit of selfishness And left their path of Light Humanity has embraced lies, deceit and untruths As a way of being relevant in a world driven by competition, selfishness and wickedness Where reality has been disassembled and assembled into reality shows, virtual reality and recklessness Poverty, inequality and horrendous injustices meted on innocent children, the poor and the vulnerable Where money and materialism are worshipped And unconditional Love is trampled It's never too late to look the truth in the eye And be the eye of the truth I write poetry because in my private time I am transformed into a beautiful template of Silence And nothingness is my tabernacle I have no choice but to listen to the voice of Silence And translate it into poems I hope this answers the question But above all I hope humanity finds the illuminated path of Light Faith, hope and Love It's our everlasting existence ©