After All There Is No Route To This And That

after all these, you stand alone to be judged, and you think
this has something to do with content, your flesh and bone, your words
and deeds, the meaning of what you want to tell them,

you get it all wrong and the world of magic and imagination laughs
you have not done them wrong
you have not done them right either

you may not believe this and that
but rightly so, the passing wind, the flowing river, the moving sea

the breathing baby, the sleeping meadows,
all these, including the eternal movement of the galaxies,

the unbending light, the constant ebbing and growing of the tides
all these, must have given you the hint of the truth

it is in the flowing of the sound, it is in the journey
of all things and thoughts

these make our world, all these, not the content but the style
the art, not the words but how you sing it.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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