Thursday, December 28, 2006
Birth Of A Poet
Beauty is a bird that Sings to the heart, while pleasing the eyes
She refuses to be caged because freedom is her life blood
Only can a free soul be truly beautiful, for limitations are
clips to the wings of her slendor golden body of lust
The bird sings in her angelic voice changing the hearts of many
And within her music flows the secret of elagance.
Perched on a tree she rests her tired wings, sleep over comes her.
She is awakened by another song, the song of the northern winds
Wisdom are the winds that blow from the north, Cool and Mystical
These winds give flight to beauty as the world begins to unfold
A wise eye can see the beauty that the song could never show
and the wind that brings a tear to the eye is knowledge.
Confidence is the rain that falls beneath the horizon
He is moved by the winds of wisdom with percision
When the rain falls even in failure is something learned
And nourished by the rain are the flowers of creativity.
Creativity the beloved flower of the poet, who hears the wisdom
Watches the birds fly and the rains fall and when drenche
in the rain, proceeds to create a very special thing.
The soul in which can be reached through balance of wind rain and song.
Darryl (Daristotle) McMillan