The Way Neruda Wrote Poem by Zaina Anwar

Master weaver
of grand tapestries
with words alive and shimmering
like unscratchable diamonds placed
within oysters with opal shells,
scattered over dunes undulating,
of an ocean-bed so deep and murky,
it hides its oracles,
forever in the dark.

His lines amuse themselves,
at the expense
of my bewilderment,
winking at me
like a coquette, blushing deliberately,
secure in her knowledge
of adding another conquest
to her treasury of hearts annihilated
by the incantations
of her mystic mantra.

Neruda, the great poet,
a lone visionary soaring
like an eagle
through clear, Chilean skies;
a conjurer of words pulsating
with a secret, inner life.
Neruda, the vicious bard,
knew the mystery,
the seed carries
within its fibrous shell
before it turns
into a glorious flower.