I've read some poems in my life
that gave me comfort,
gave me life,
made me feel alright to be,
myself,
who I am -
I've read a few more
that gave my soul
permission to be,
what I think I was created
to be -
I've read a handful of poems
that sparked my heart,
moved my spirit,
made me glad,
to be alive -
I've read many, many poems
over the years ranging
from childhood naivety
into, and beyond, adult
pessimism -
I've read poems
that lost me,
found me,
enchanted, and discomforted my mind…
but, until I read
my own,
I never knew, truly,
my soul's own deep Voice, speaking to and
beyond me -
Smoky, I'm glad to see that you are still around. You were silent for about a month, and I thought I was the last remaining cowboy. Welcome back, Pard!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Smoky, I liked this poem a lot. I wrote the poem about Wallace Stevens sometime back that you commented on.