Thanks Tech for the input, you are right there is really no need for the commas in most cases, I should have thought of that.
On another note here is a small piece I wrote a while ago, it's prose not poetry. Hope you enjoy it.
Upon one mountain sat a hermit. He sat there for time he couldn't measure without food or drink. If someone with a gram of humanity saw him, he would try to help. He would see his tattered clothes and would give his jacket. He would see his bones pushing against his skin and he would give him food. He would see his eyes, black from sleeplessness. But those eyes would not make sense to anyone who saw them. Those eyes, they were still, unmoving, always closed facing the horizon but never looking at it. Waiting for something. Waiting for the sky to open up and come down and crush him. That hermit was talking to God.
They talked about various things. About the beauty of nature, about the people that came and went, about death, about what was right or wrong. The hermit would ask why do people fight. They are selfish the god would answer. Why do they kill. They think that will make them powerful. Why do they choose easy over correct. Because they are afraid of the difficult, it is easier on the heart that way. Why do the storms never stop. Man has caused them and thus has to pay. Why did you give us all these choices. Because that's how it should be.
And then came the question that the hermit dreaded the most. "Tell me God, why, if we are so flawed, do we still survive and you don't do anything?" and then god would be silent, and the hermit would realise that for one more time he had not found God, he had found something, someone, else but not God.
Another day, the hermit was meditating as always. Someone saw him as he was there on the edge of the cliff. And without saying anything but with eyes of pity and understanding, went and sat next to him. Letting out a breath that someone started talking, "May I know your name?" the person asked, with a voice as stale and dry as the dirt. "Another one?" said disappointingly the hermit, more to himself rather to anyone else "That's a question I have forgotten how to answer" he responded "I'm sorry, most people that call me, name me the Questioner"
The person was intrigued by the riddles of the old skinny man, "So Questioner, what is it that you question so diligently about?" the person asked with a slight hint of smile. "That's for me to know and for you to find out" the hermit responded. "Then ask away!" the person said, in a lighthearted unbiased way. "Do you know why people fight?" the question lashed out, quick and direct. The person pondered for a moment, "I don't know, but I hope it's for something important", there was silence for a moment and then another question, "Why do people kill?". Now the person next to the hermit did not think really hard "I don't know, maybe to help"
"Why are they never satisfied?"
"I don't know, everyone has a different reason"
"One? I can't do that, why do I need to name one?"
The hermit was disappointed from that last question. He thought he had found someone lesser in intellect now, he had degraded from his usual specimens. "Then answer this last one question. Why do you, God, create us flawed creatures but now you are afraid to take us back?"
"I'm not God, but I think I can answer that" the person said "Because there is a plan, and we all have our role to play in it. A plan that no one can see in its grandeur. It's like building with pebbles, each one of use gathers pebbles along the way and we place them on our own tower of Babylon, hoping that when the time comes it will not collapse on us"
Then the Hermit cried because as he heard the answer he opened his eyes that were closed for so long and what he saw was not what he remembered. The sky was coloured orange and purple and blue all in perfect balance. The red sun rising from the horizon. The forest beneath him was lush and the motion of life was distinct and vibrant in each branch. Birds, monkeys, every kind of animal, every leaf. The wind took the leaves into its calm embrace and blew into the hermit.
The hermit turned and saw a young boy, not yet a man, smiling and looking at the sun. The Hermit smiled and brushed the boy's hair feeling his warmth. "My boy, you are wrong" he said with calm and cool voice. "Why?" the boy asked with curious green eyes asking more than words, more than the hermit could possibly think of. "No reason" the hermit responded and let out a hearty laugh down from the bottom of his stomach"That's just what I want to believe. That we are not here to provide help, but to experience what is in front of us, to see the earth and each and every one of its beings living in perfect harmony. Indulging in a thing called beauty" The boy smiled with him, and then tried to answer back but was stopped by an abrupt motion by the hermit's hand "Just watch. You can believe what you want to believe. But so can I. So, just for now, let's just enjoy the sun rising, and when the sky is as clear as glass we will go back to town"
And so they sat, just watching and observing. Not knowing that they had more in common than they thought. That they loved the same woman, one as a mother and the other as a lover. And that this day they stopped each other from doing something they would eventually regret.