I LISTEN TO THE LINE I WAIT TO WRITE
I listen to the line I wait to write
I hear myself speaking the poem to myself.
What I write
Comes from somewhere else
Inside myself
Perhaps beyond.
I take these words down
Which appear right before
I say them
Which appear
As I say them.
Is what I am doing ‘Poetry’?
Or is it merely my own illusion
Of what I am
And what Poetry is?
God gives and God takes.
Will God make these lines too
What they are not now,
And yet?
I understand what you mean. What is poetry? Who is a poet? And, What does this mean to me? Although, I am much less skilled at this writing thing we do, I too have these flowing lines in my head. I have to hurry and write down or it will be eternally lost forever. Thanks for sharing this as I feel many can relate to what you are saying.
I'm sure we both hear the same voice, Shalom. It is the voice that comes from trust in a creative spirit that underpins all poetry. Confidence is harder to come by, I know. Your humility becomes you. Your poetry sings. Love, Allie ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I love your poetical dialogues about writing poetry. Everyone has them too; but only you can put such words and meanings with clarity. Sometimes we get near our target; and sometimes farther away, but it is always in the striving where we find so much happiness; isn't it true?