.39) The Greatest Poem Poem by Max Reif
.39) The Greatest Poem
The greatest poem
is the one you're writing,
sparks flying from your pen
as from Vulcan's furnace,
hand and arm lubricated
and calibrated with a mind
that's up on a ladder
at its far end,
hopefully receiving notes
from an angel or two—
fresh bread,
Rumi called it,
a little piece of Soul,
'out there' and sculpted
to perfection...
or near perfection,
you see the next day
as you fix a flaw
that's appeared overnight,
and a few more
the day after that. Then
the Life-force flows
into a new creation,
this one has hardened
and is left to feed the birds,
and some day when you've
forgotten about it completely,
you'll come upon it again, feel awed,
and wonder, 'Who wrote that? '
I echo the others' sentiments - all true of a wonderful poem and poet. : ] Esther
Max, brilliant write! Poems are like people, constantly striving to improve, but not always succeding. Brian
And who indeed Max? I am enjoying so much of your work I’m not sure about perfect but why not say 'Profound, Priceless or Passionate.. You are such a good poet in my eyes.Love Duncan
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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5/5/2024 3:33:24 PM # 1.0.0.1119
Love this Max.... so true! Writing is a great journal to mirror the mind! You are right though, often you look and back and you're like...... what? ? Great poem! HG: -) xx