On Poets & Poems

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I was sitting with the notion that words existed beyond me, that I was just an instrument for them to be born into this realm. On a wintery Sunday this poem took its first steps. 

On poems and poets

In the ether

words,

drops of consciousness

waiting to be witnessed,

sculpted into life.

Fear turning into faith,

magic blending with bones,

trees bending on rivers,

pebbles building mountains,

hope and grief.

Words poured

in days of labour,

sleepless nights,

passionate embraces,

senseless meetings,

hill climbing,

ocean swimming,

anguished deathbeds

…stillness.

And the poet listens.

Some of the words so potent,

so loud

she can’t unhear them.

She knits them together

as they wish,

as they take on 

their own patterns

their own voice

their own story.

In the ether…

Poems

23 January 2022

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