How I found magic and freedom though the power of words.
Before my greedy palm.
They would take to the sky,
At the stomping of my harsh feet.
And all I could reach,
Was the drifting dead feathers.
I stuck them together,
With nails and glue,
Crude tools of humanity,
Of imprisonment
Through arrogance.
I would hold in my hand
The mocking imitation
And call it a tale.
And although it had feathers,
It could not fly,
And the words remained
Dead and drifting,
Lifeless.
Someone gave me a rope.
And showed me how to tie the knots.
And soon I could reach,
The simple words that swooped too low.
But that rope was short,
And could never be enough,
To catch the ones that rolled on the clouds
Without the restrictions
Of rhythm and rhyme.
Those I could grasp
Were kept on tight tethers.
And soon their glassy sheen would fade,
And the spark in their eyes
Would flicker and die.
And never would they fly for me.
So I would just sit,
And watch those words,
As they soared beyond my reach.
I could not catch them,
Nor could I call them,
As I did not have the voice.
I do not know
If you watched me,
As my fingertips brushed
Only the wind.
Or if you noticed,
How I longed to create
The beauty of never faltering flight.
Yet even if you knew not,
Of my quiet wish for wings,
You were the one
That planted the seeds,
Lost ideas,
That could coax the called ones,
From the skies.
I didn't notice your hand,
As it dug the small havens
And sheltered the small songs
From the lashing wind
Of the dull.
The flowers grew tall
Ideas without boundaries
And no longer
Need I plead with the words.
Attracted to the colour,
That bloomed in my mind,
They came to my fields
Yet remained free.
And now
I know them each by name
And others may watch
As they perch on my hand
And they're voices create harmonies
That all may hear.
Because of me,
And thanks to you.
Through blue skies of
The minds of many
My words now fly
In flocks
And freedom.
And anyone looking for my words
Will find them,
And know them,
And may be touched.
And maybe in the distance,
They'll see
Those fields of flowers,
Ideas that you helped me nurture,
To bring the words
To life.
Thank you for poetry.
Poetry by Tal¿a
Read 1115 times
Written on 2006-10-03 at 11:15
Tags Poetry Beauty Struggle
Save as a bookmark (requires login)
Write a comment (requires login)
Send as email (requires login)
Print text
Thankyou
Words once scattered,Before my greedy palm.
They would take to the sky,
At the stomping of my harsh feet.
And all I could reach,
Was the drifting dead feathers.
I stuck them together,
With nails and glue,
Crude tools of humanity,
Of imprisonment
Through arrogance.
I would hold in my hand
The mocking imitation
And call it a tale.
And although it had feathers,
It could not fly,
And the words remained
Dead and drifting,
Lifeless.
Someone gave me a rope.
And showed me how to tie the knots.
And soon I could reach,
The simple words that swooped too low.
But that rope was short,
And could never be enough,
To catch the ones that rolled on the clouds
Without the restrictions
Of rhythm and rhyme.
Those I could grasp
Were kept on tight tethers.
And soon their glassy sheen would fade,
And the spark in their eyes
Would flicker and die.
And never would they fly for me.
So I would just sit,
And watch those words,
As they soared beyond my reach.
I could not catch them,
Nor could I call them,
As I did not have the voice.
I do not know
If you watched me,
As my fingertips brushed
Only the wind.
Or if you noticed,
How I longed to create
The beauty of never faltering flight.
Yet even if you knew not,
Of my quiet wish for wings,
You were the one
That planted the seeds,
Lost ideas,
That could coax the called ones,
From the skies.
I didn't notice your hand,
As it dug the small havens
And sheltered the small songs
From the lashing wind
Of the dull.
The flowers grew tall
Ideas without boundaries
And no longer
Need I plead with the words.
Attracted to the colour,
That bloomed in my mind,
They came to my fields
Yet remained free.
And now
I know them each by name
And others may watch
As they perch on my hand
And they're voices create harmonies
That all may hear.
Because of me,
And thanks to you.
Through blue skies of
The minds of many
My words now fly
In flocks
And freedom.
And anyone looking for my words
Will find them,
And know them,
And may be touched.
And maybe in the distance,
They'll see
Those fields of flowers,
Ideas that you helped me nurture,
To bring the words
To life.
Thank you for poetry.
Poetry by Tal¿a
Read 1115 times
Written on 2006-10-03 at 11:15
Tags Poetry Beauty Struggle
Save as a bookmark (requires login) Write a comment (requires login) Send as email (requires login) Print text
