Poetry And Development
The gardener cannot know the secrets of the garden
Until he has been bruised by the thorns that protect the flowers.
Because of the drought the peasant knows it has not rained on the mountains
Although he has never seen them nor ever will.
We meet, you and I, like a pair of lips and a wine glass
Tell me what will happen when the wine bottle will be empty?
You hesitate to walk with me for I cannot identify a destination
I am in search of answers and you of results.
Wisdom, the sages say, makes complexity simple
Yet simplicity is not accepted by the merchants of knowledge for it has no market.
Because of this perpetual conflict with myself
I seek relief in writing poetry
And poetry is more honest if not more meaningful than my work.
What a painful contradiction!
Karachi, July 1992