Talk To Me
Sit with me in the shade of this tree.
Tell me who you were, who you are,
And who it is you wish to be.
Talk to me of days gone by and days to come.
Talk to me of warm mornings, cool evenings,
And cold nights, writing by candlelight.
Tell me of the epic that will not come.
Tell me of the love poems that continue to flow,
Unread, unpublished, unappreciated,
Unseen by the eyes that inspire them.
Tell me of your ambitions, your wishes,
Your vision of what you could be
If someone would take the time to read
The words you put to paper so passionately.
Recite and I will listen.
Hypnotize me with your rhymes.
Lull me with the rhythms of your speech.
Create a complete world with your words
And let your voice lead us both
Where you want us to go.
The epic is an oral tradition.
Poetry is meant to be heard not read.
Don’t look for your story in the structure.
Don’t expect to work magic if you are counting feet.
Just be.
Just speak.
Just believe
That within you is beauty
And release it.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Wow--A lovely poem that comes from heart.