Metapoetry

 A thunderbolt of thought,
so striking yet years apart
gave me a piece to write - 
something that you might call "poetry".

A poem is what your brain is,
you can't predict, you can't describe.
The moment you describe, it slips away from you -
like the slippery something you want to say, but it slips,
or the rational thought you want to stick on, but it slips.

Each thunderbolt comes in and goes away,
you've but few seconds to see it, say it.
Why is the first fiery thought the special one?
If you really forget it, is it really the special one?

It seems like special as it excites you at glance -
the way, I met her, dated her, and got excited at glance.
After a while, as that thought get stagnant and stale,
the love gets boring and the relationships start to fail.
Is there something which is special and keeps you ON,
or the notion that to be on is to be afraid of loving all.

Loving all is to not restrict yourself to rationality,
to not be with ONE and but to be ONE with everything.
That is to be open for everything alive and around,
waiting for it to strike you and poetise you down.