A poet can turn
to the splendor of his own
innermost sanctum.
There, to draw upon
the fertile fields of his mind,
lush in their beauty.
There is no limit
to the imaging power
for new creation.
Fed by desire
to get to know an ego
so deeply buried.
An awesome music
resonating from craters,
the inner soulmate.
Respect this treasure
of poetry in action.
We all are poets.
Herbert Nehrlich
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/poets-haiku/
