Sunday, February 16, 2014

Illiterate


Every stone is a word
the earth writes to me.

Every cloud is a sentence
the sky writes to me.

Every wave is a note
the ocean writes to me.

Yet here I sit, illiterate.

4 comments:

Bei Kuan-tu said...

Profound... and yet ironically the disease that plagues humanity.

HK Stewart said...

Thanks so much for your comment. And thanks, too, for making me aware of your blog. I look forward to reading it.

Bei Kuan-tu said...

You're quite welcome.

The process of graduating from our mental conceptions and positions never ends. Qualitatively, it is "the process" that seems to light our way!

HK Stewart said...

Yes. And we are part of that process. Am I the dancer? Or am I the dance?