He must make a spark
before he can make a fire,
before a poem is born,
then as he writes
be consumed
by the fire
of his own creation.
Now as assumed
words on paper to adorn.
They flow
as music on a lyre,
not hitting bytes,
p'raps making a mark
with poetic recreation.
Painting a picture
in the mind
to find
the poet.
Inspired by the philosophy of Auguste Rodin.....
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem