A poem isn’t a poem
until you go beyond,
your biological existence
and respond to the
call of the humanity.
Then it ceases to be a poem.
Then it becomes an offering.
“Behold the spirit of poetry,
it never dies, nor does it
ever grow old. A real poem
is the heartbeat of the humanity.”
I collapse... this says it all.. visual and words need no further comment. Bhuwan, you are a visionary and an expositor; and you are the very soul of that of which you speak. God's own man. Bless you always - you kids are in the safest and best of hands. LOL Kate xx
Our flesh is merely a vehicle dependent on matter, on caress or whisper. Beyond that we are spirits in a timeless, dimensionless realm. This is where we become poetry of the One Who created us. Take care,
Rage
Reviewed by Andy Turner (Reader)
Reviewed on March 5, 2005
Yup we sure can leave any where behind, and go anywhere, just for the price of imagination...
Bhuwan, you hit the nose right on the head, " Behold the spirit of poetry, it never dies, nor does it ever grow old. A real poem is the heaertbeat of humanity." this is truly a great truth. I shall with your permission share this with my radio listening audience. Peace and blessings my friend. Mikii
Imogene, a country-bred girl, longs to make a life for herself in New York City. She joins forces with her former college roommate to start a movie production company in the big city.
The deep-dive literary meditations presented as stories, poems, and essays in The American Poet Who Went Home Again, A Mosaic of My Soul at Work, have captivated and inspired readers ever since its first paperback publication in 2008.
Indeed, it lives forever in the heartbeat, as it has become an offering. Bhuwan, a very sage write :)
warm hugs
Elga
touching picture!!!!
Paul;-]
Sandie May Angel a.k.a. Sandie Angel :o)
excellent message delivered powerfully in this short verse ...
coated with wisdom
Thanks for sharing
William ....peace
Peace
Rage
God bless my friend!!
Love Tinka
love,
eileen
Reindeer