Esotericism

I do not indulge in this form of esoteric
Teachings, like the doctrines of Pythagoras
Or Aristotle,

Recondite,
I do not have some secrets now to hide,
What for? There is nothing private in me,
There is nothing worthy of confidentiality

This is not a poetry that is full of esoteric
Allusions to be understood only by the select
Few. What for? What for really?

There is nothing cryptic to the good that I must
Do for you, as one good man is wont to do for
Another good man,

For the good is open handed, it is not a closed
Fist, the fingers that behave like crumpled paper

I am opening like my fingers to the sky
Like a bud of this little white flower to see the sun

In fact, if you read me through and through
I am revealing myself through and through

Piece by piece layer by layer like you are
Going to the innermost me, there is no enigma

At the end and you may regret it though
I may not have cautioned you,
There are only drops of tears trapped in there

Salty and if you taste it, can be really sour.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!