The poet knows naught
But that which he feels,
Confined in a prison of words
Which to him are most real.
He gazes with his eyes,
Smells with his nose,
Seeks with his fingertips,
Haltingly advances with his toes.
The poet explores his heart
And attempts to know the soul of another,
Considers oceans and forests
As sisters and brothers.
The poet imagines calamity
Apart from his own,
And contemplates terminal illness
And dying alone.
He seeks to describe the joy
Of the rising sun,
The triumph of a life lived well,
The pain of love undone.
For him is the richness
Of a dazzling night sky,
And the persistent question
Of other-worldly life.
The poet knows God
On many levels explored,
Notions of love and forgiveness
As instructed by his Lord.
The poet imagines
And attempts to describe,
All that he sees and feels
As he peers inside.
All that he knows
In our wonderful life,
Flows through his pen
As his dreams take flight.
And his humble words
Which pictures do form,
Are his lasting legacy
Amidst life’s memorable storms.