lines in life, drawn between this and that
sometimes easy to draw
often hard to erase
once in place, leaving impressions
like those left by a full moon
on a farmer’s resting field
on a biting cold winter’s eve
like those cut by a determined river
following its surging heart to sea
like those etched into our faces
from years of smiling or frowning
and finally
like those in a poem
connecting and separating words
to give meaning
Category: Reflecting on Poetry
Why Do I Write Poetry?
Just the other day
someone asked why I write poetry.
The question set me thinking;
more like rummaging around
for an honest answer,
but also one I liked.
All the usual suspects turned up:
I love poetry
I write it because I can
My Dad turned me on to poetry
Poetry makes me feel good
I can speak in a poetic voice.
Then I realized I write poetry
because it is part of the story
I tell myself and others
about what my life is all about.
What stories do you tell yourself and others
about what your life is all about?
Poetic Alchemist 