Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

Words have power
And if craftily joined,
There is magic, too.
But a poem needs a voice,
A dimension of sound,
Or it is incomplete.

A poem is a song
Without music.
A poem is a song
Making its own music
Subtly, in the tone and rhythm
Of the poet’s voice.

This is the oldest of arts,
From the Dreamtime,
Before we learned to make
Fleeting interruptions
In cyberspace; or
To place ink on paper; or
To make lines in the dirt:
When the whole story of a people
Was carried in a poet’s mind and heart
And sung from generation to generation
And thus,
Stayed alive.

So, come, sit closer to the fire
And watch the shadows dance
And I will watch your eyes
Open wide with delight
Or fear
Or close and weep in sadness
As I sing a tale of our people.
And you will know
The power of the words
And feel the magic.