Adieu Poem by David Taylor

A poem that with beauty filled
a poet does not make with words
that slide off pens or sharpened quills
and even if his art is thought superb
where is the beauty in a noun or verb?

To impress with bounded words
the beauty of our surrounding world
is it seems a vain and fruitless task
like holding water in your grasp
but we try and fail as time slips past.

These words are just not the same
as sparkling snow or a dancing flame
or the silence in our eyes that meet
and transport our souls so deep
and yet we are still moved to speak.

And staring now at passing clouds
I beg the music of the stars they shroud
to leap across the endless space
and fill these words with heaven's grace
that we might see that beauty's face.

Still in mind with muted breath
the end of all that's ever said
beauty flowers and blossoms true
as I again come home to you
left far behind these words, a-dieu.

And like that flame that leaps
and swirls about its centre curled
and in its dancing brings to this world
that bliss which each moment holds
as these words which dance, unfold.