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Something That I Can't Do
how i wish i can imitate
the flow of water in my life
that choice of taking the path
of least resistance
how i wish i can have the language
of the rain
that which assuages pain
that which satisfies the thirst
of grass
that which jives with the slow pacing
of the stones
i can't.
i am already born with the language of
my parents
it is the language that i know
the only language of my body and soul
i have to like it
there is no other sound
no other choice
except to speak it
again and
again.
poem
by
Ric S. Bastasa
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