Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

i.

WORDS!

where do they all come from?
the Irish Sea or the devil in me?
does the weeping angel that guards
this cemetery called earth weep
for me? my sisters and brothers?

crones dancing their wildness with time?
men who lay down their arms, if not before,
but in death's final embrace?

ii.

i don't know where words come from. i don't believe
in angels or devils, but for the life of me, i know
some words are not mine. they come from somewhere
not me.

iii

justify to the right. justify to the left and the center of all
things remains the same. eternity is a backward glance,
expanding the event horizon. expanding the margins
and the break-off point that must sever all ties.

seas gather waves, and one of
them is me.


~~~~~

Thanking all your contributions in the making of this poem.

tapping into the collective consciousness inspires me to write more....I too am aware that I haven't created all these thoughts, phrases, patterns.....perhaps I tinker with them in order to bring an idea to light, but very appreciative for the inspiration in the wind that urges me on.

well said

Indeed where does it come from? I have no idea but glad that it does come these words.