As I watch
My old world disappear
Setting behind the pages
Of a book

In search of a new world
Trying, yet not finding
To understand
And relate

But how, as I
Cannot capture the emotion
In a word
Or the image
In a line
Or the experience
In a poem

A poet? — Nay, not with this diction
I live but cannot record
I feel but cannot describe
I touch—but can I be touched?

Can I be close? integrated?
Or yet on the mountain-top,
Looking out upon the life
That once I could know

And the poems once I could feel
I admire the poets
Because I cannot be one
Or turn a phrase and capture life

—"Just the setting of the sun
On the life-time of a sage"
And where the sun may rise
Is yet unknown