why I don't write poetry
just
open my head
and look in
see the flock of pigeons
turning, suddenly
as if thrown
a hundred wings
catching the sun
in a dazzle of white
and my breath fills
with the same
gold
words cannot hold it
see the raven of poetry
resting its heavy feet
on my shoulder
I do not hunt, it says
I'm not a hawk,
never will be
wake me up when
a pigeon falls
I take dinner
on the ground
open my head
and look in
see the flock of pigeons
turning, suddenly
as if thrown
a hundred wings
catching the sun
in a dazzle of white
and my breath fills
with the same
gold
words cannot hold it
see the raven of poetry
resting its heavy feet
on my shoulder
I do not hunt, it says
I'm not a hawk,
never will be
wake me up when
a pigeon falls
I take dinner
on the ground
posted by Yes at 3:26 AM
7 Comments:
WOW!! That WAS poetry, my bird :)
LOVED it,
love,
devika
Devika--...and just for you, my dear, 'cause you asked!
(by the way, I think your comment came less than a minute after I posted the poem--how do you do it?)
haha! I have my reader on the task bar and have it immediately if I am near the computer :)
and thanks, my dear...but why not write more and more frequently...I LOVE your poems :)
devika
...I can only assume that human vocabulary often lacks the beauty you see and the depth of your soul...and still...I LOVE this
Devika--you are so slick! And of course you are right, I should write more often, and thanks for keeping after me!
Lorraine--wow, you are so eloquent!
*smiling* love these images, thoughts as pigeons, the raven of poetry... very soul satisfying.
Hayden--you are such a mixture of down-to-earth, and flight of the spirit--and developing both simultaneously! A joy to have your presence here...
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