(This was my contribution in a group exercise where
we had to compose poems with about six given words)
The earth contused once, I was born;
a sublime sky spread out in aesthetic colors '
I was a pioneer, touching the right chords,
breaking out in fearless pursuit of reasons.
When I died after my whimsical voyage,
the sky remained frozen, pale with frangipani ribbons '
beyond the sensuous now, in my memory
the wounded earth still breaks out in seasons.
