…for that’s the way that poetry goes…
and goes…mere pose, tapped out as prose…
Yes, most of us, these days, undisciplined,
approach the temple of pure poetry,
when some thought stirs in deepest heart and mind, ,
with all the earthy tread of careful prose…
yet with a certain hope, a faith, a love,
a purity of heart – that if we tread -
unmetered and unrhymed petitioners -
as pilgrims, sackclothed, ashen from the urn
of some poetic crematorium;
that, as we stumble on the heart’s true path,
the Muse, with long and patient, weary sigh,
- the music of the ages in her ears -
will catch up with our steps along the road
and guide us to that sacred, lovely place
where, with a gasp – our verses dropt from hand –
we’ll be where goodness, truth and beauty dance
and sing and laugh and love – now three; now one.
(thanks, WD)
Poetry, Prose, Short Story, Essay, etc....to me, Michael, when i finally log-off(do I do that? ...Help me w/ this one would ya') I wanet whatever it is to be of the finesy quality that this Mind and Heart could pump out...If I do that.....i sleep well that night. Michael this is a fine piece of literary wisdom, and i applaud your ever efforts and admire your masterfull results''''''''''''''frank
Very nice, Michael...prose? poetry? the muse makes all the difference. Your final stanza leaves no doubt about the poetry. Raynette
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
From a fellow-stumbler along the road, searching for the words, and occasionally finding just the right one...thanks! great writing! !