Beyond the Poem

Beyond the Poem

November 15, 2021

Beyond the Poem

 

This is the wounded light of winter

coming toward us from within,

and the earth moves slowly

reminding us of time.

 

I feel the warmth of my love

and the poem ask, “where is it snowing”?

 

This man behind me 

separates  heaven from hell,

he reminds me daily

not to judge myself.

 

This poem becomes 

the falling leaves.

Mouthless

they sing softly the words of compassion,

‘without mercy for ourselves we cannot love the world’.

 

 My heart was taken

 a long time ago

by the muses of the desert and the sea,

as a child they raised me

and I lived in a world

of poets and painters.

 

 I took my pen and my journals

and followed a tangled path of passion.

I rode the waves of summer

from spring into the sleeping winter ____

 

(no one could possibly understand

how beautiful our love has been.)

 

 Written words upon words, 

poems of love, passion and broken hearts.

 

 (And always next to me stood my compass and my anchor.)

 

 Because sometimes a poet needs to land 

and to be seen by the only person who can really see you _____ 

beyond the poem.

 

 

Keep the Faith

and remember:

There is no proof of reality beyond the observer _____

but there is always proof of loving and being loved.

Gesso

 

 © Gesso Cocteau

Thank You ____  © Santiago Carbonell 

 



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