The poet, like the potter,
takes the raw clay of thoughts
and shapes them
through the mind of his loving you.
The beauty of these fragments
without having to expend the energy
to try to express
the image envisioned.
Through the medium
of paper or clay
for personal solitaire,
or the benevolence of other eyes.
Each colour and weave
their thoughts in different patterns
seeing different visions
momentarily lost in their multiple meanings.
At the outset is vision
our struggles to seize or translate it
sully the brightness
in giving it flesh, the vision is muddied, lost.
Copyright © Terence George Craddock
An exegetes of bible meaning....very beautiful indeed....such modern reflection conquer the essence of what the maker wish of His creation....God bless... a 10 +++
very good... the title's kinda catchie and interesting.. nice write!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Sure, this is why masterpieces leave us speechless, try to explain them we ruin them. Thanks very much for sharing.