woke with poems this morning
the unique perspective which is
the craft won gem cut diamond
but the scribe is only dream writing
in poetic mind journey of leave taking
began a few cooler Autumn weeks ago
time to say goodbye to writing
for the chill Winter a season
perhaps for a decade or eternity
the words
are always
with us
even when a written record
is stilled and no longer gift written
poets writers live in words
time allowed
so little
to be written
but soon in quiet reflection
I will write volumes filling
no space for that which is not
written shared leaves
no trace like settled ripples
upon water never was
Copyright © Terence George Craddock
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I like the serenity that echoes from this poem; on a personal note: on the contrary, I find Winter, the greatest season for inspiring poetry writing. I think of snow, chimney, carols, and generally the best time to reflect and to slow the mundane rhythm of life. I wish you, a lovely Winter! :)