the lessons of miracles

Hyacinth garden


if I ever read you, you know what I mean

with your words that twirl upon some distant screen,
you whisper of love and lust and the little death,

your tongue of verse it finds its metaphor breath


supreme empathy reflected with truth and pain

change the chemistry to the metaphysics of the brain

not by destiny but with the kernels of meticulous text
manifest of its fusion on a path relentless to the next

you are one of the number

at this point you are that subject

it is your tendency, they say

you are marvelous
I benefit from the exchange

set forth  

write to me

reflecting maturely

on the lessons of miracles

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nightlight1220's picture

Eventually on this road...we

Eventually on this road...we reach a point where we see life is about two choices. "grow or perish".  Doesn't it seem like everyone would find a way to have joy in their hearts in this world if things were made more simple?


...and he asked her, "do you write poetry? Because I feel as if I am the ink that flows from your quill."

"No", she replied, "but I have experienced it. "


a.griffiths57's picture

The Lessons of Miracles

Reading your poem I feel as though it is a miracle of communication between brain and language. To make a success of your works or everything fading before your thought.  That spark of innovation.