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The Song of the Poet
There is a song, or perhaps it is me
It plays from somewhere I’m not sure of
Somewhere far beyond the material
I still grapple with what it means –
Why it chose my heart on which to compose itself
Or my soul with which to amplify its essence.
It seems not to care for the barrier of sorrows and past hurts
Or the walls I’ve erected to protect myself
Or even the means I’ve taken to escape my pain.
I know only that I am compelled to hear its message, to listen
Because it tells of hope amidst the aridity of loneliness and despair.
It speaks of love in a cynical world of broken clocks,
Of peace in a tumult of inner conflict.
The song is of Light, a beacon amidst scudding tempests.
It is good, I believe, and perhaps from God Himself.
What I do know for sure
Is that it is playing on regardless and that I must hear it out
And its echo is really me, is my unique story
Though that echo will also resonate throughout the brotherhood of humanity
To which I am inextricably bound.
So, I will give it credence for as long as I am alive
And allow it to hold me in faith
That my tears will not glisten my cheeks forever
And let love bloom forever in me
Because I love how love does swell so in my soul!
I am human. I am flawed. Nevertheless,
I am a voice and a song, a crescendo of experiences.
I am
A poet!
NJP 18 May 2009
