if you write
an old writer says
(who never got famous somehow
but left an imprint in
you)
write for someone
definite
someone whose name
rings to your ears
like a church bell
pretend you are talking to
a god
and you are offering
your thoughts
and heart and
even your soul
do not say you are here to save the world
that would be too much of a burden
and you cannot carry it yourself
say you are saving yourself
and there is no other way except to state this message
to the one greater than you
it is accepted
this is something divine
too solemn to be uttered
to sacred to be
revealed
and thus the metaphors
come in
like masks to your face
the words are said
not for what they mean to be
and so the world grows
flowers on the hills
and the rivers flow in all directions
and thus springs
freedom
and beauty too.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Excellent poem, Ric. Sometimes this works for me to think of one person while writing, a message comes through at times, other times it does not. Like a river these words flow evenly through rhythm and into our minds. Thank you for sharing. RoseAnn