-- I Walk into the Poem Alone --

by John Herlihy

I walk into the night

As I walk into the river

Lost from view out of sight

The overhead moon a sliver

I walk into the poem alone,

As I walk alone into the night.

On wavelet sands a bleached bone,

Shining as ivory in the moonlight.

I am not writing but listening,

To whispered echoes of mind.

My thoughts a diamond glistening,

A muse’s breath as words chimed.

Thoughts in a gilded cage wander,

Traces of ancient images in a cave.

Carved in stone the future to ponder,

Emotions ranging from joy to dismay.

Melodies composed as sad adagios,

Listened to and in the heart heard.

Joyful notes struck as soft pianissimos,

To land upon the page, word by word.

Who accounts for the spark in flint,

The sap that flows thru veins of trees.

The moon its glow on the sea to imprint,

The written poem as a leaf in the breeze.

Then the poet from the poem takes leave,

Now the poem alone on the blank page.

Its message in readers’ hearts to weave,

Beauty and grace from the voice of a sage.

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Copyright © John Herlihy

Friday 9 February 2024