This is an ego-friendly poem. It is not trying to make a point because it admits that you, dear reader, have a point and it will not contest that. This poem is not trying to say anything new because it concedes to you that talent, that right. It will criticise nobody for who better than you, dear reader, to make a judgment? Neither does this poem praise anyone, not even you, dear reader, because that again is a form of judgment and that is best left to you. It is not even trying to do something smart because, again, who is smarter than you, dear reader? This poem will not even claim that it is an ego-friendly poem. That too is judgmental, is it not, and that function, is yours alone, dear reader. So this tries to be an ego-friendly poem. * Aug 22, 2009 *** Re-edited Apr 26, 2016: This is an ego-friendly poem. It is trying very hard to be. This poem is not trying to say anything new dear reader, be- cause it concedes...
The message is supreme;
Born in the heart,
and lilting itself
from tongue to tongue,
throwing its scent
over wind and wave;
travelling on dots
or fingers
when blindness
or silence bar its way.
It hews itself into stone
or burns itself onto magnetic discs;
it is the message that lives
and I exist
solely to pass it on.