Never Too Late
"When you have exhausted all possibilities, remember this — you haven't." – Thomas A. EdisonArchive for July 28, 2008
Poetica, naked
I am not a poet. I hated reading and deciphering them in school
But I’ve been slinging them out lately. All the poems I’ve written, I’ve felt deeply. I want them to be naked, stripped of clothes, pretension, artifice. I want them to display where flows and courses deeply, richly, wholly in my heart and soul.
Hear me
The morning fog
Silences the clatter
Of man
So my soul
Can be heard
My soul says
And feels
What is whole
Inside me
The fullness
And richness
That remains
Constant
Enriching
Nourishing
The shelf
Books, photos
Keepsakes, mementos
Snapshots so far
Of my life, lived
Displayed on the shelf
But something’s missing
And rightfully so
Something that can’t grow
Nourish, cultivate
And be whole
On that shelf
My heart grows
Nourishes, cultivates
When it beats and flows
Inside me
And not on a shelf
Locked away
Unable to fulfill
Its great wish
To serve the heart of another
