The winter’s cell is a snow.
We see the snow and say: “There is a winter”.
The winter is the snow’s after.
Love’s cell is a family.
We see the family and say: “There is love”.
Love is the family’s after.
God’s cell is a miracle.
We see any miracle and say: “There is God”.
God is the miracle’s after.
So a poet is an after of his poetry. |