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MY SISTER POETS
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JOURNAL # 41 we poets are woven from
indefinable threads
bolts of sensitive cloth
flow in loving river form
from our very beings
even breaths are cherished
whispers from words
yet spoken or writ
we recognize each other
between various lines
of raw and purposeful hurt
no scar goes unnoticed
no gauge cleanly cleansed
I adore being called out to
by fellow humbled poets
they easily see in me
through the bruises of experience
I share
all the beauty and pain
that my modicum of talent
is able to reveal
thus such words speak to their own
beauty, pain and experience
which taps the shoulder of their
own talent
and nudges them to
acknowledge my attempts
to rid myself of such restlessness inside
via their own wise, warm words
of poetically laced encouragement
and support
'My Sister Poets'
you lift me up highest
when I find myself slumped lowest
so much thanks
I extend to you
in each your fondest selfless reaching..............
(March 26, 2013 1208am)
:)
I'm wondering how quickly you wrote this. I'm assuming not long. Makes me jealous. :)
True, It didn't take very long but please don't be jealous......
Think of that path to the creative side of your brain like a small dirt road. If traveled enough it eventually gets carved out, graveled, later paved even much later the road is widened to make it a durable two lane then sometime later they put in a passing lane and after about 25 years when the town has grown up around it, Sometimes the fast evolving city turns that once little dinky dirt road into a six lane well maintained highway. you couldn't have told me when I was 20 years old that I'd be writing at this level by the time I was 44 I'd have not believed you for any amount of money offered. For laughs darlin, go to my Journal #1 and start reading and see just where I started. Trust me, it will give you much hope and I bet you can find poems of your own that were written at the same age as I was in mine and some of yours will far exceed mine. I bet you for the first solid five years I wrote that I didn't much care for anything I put to paper but I kept plugging away. I love(d) writing but writing takes practice like anything we do that we are good at. I am sure Angus Young of AC/DC practiced a lot to be the wonderful guitar player he is. Just as I am quite certain that Meryl Streep too was probably a gawky awkward teenager in her high school plays as well ( oh but look at her now!) If you love writing then write and feel that love grow and bloom and excede your current expectations. God loves dreaming bigger dreams for us. He did for me beyond my wildest imagination and I know he does so for you as well. Thank you for your comment. I will be glad to read your work and return the favor. Sincerest wishes, M..............