a sunday short: while we’re being all poetic and stuff

i really do believe. i do. and i’d read you, too.

Photo by Nick Fewings on Unsplash

i do believe…


…the poems of this world
have the ability to speak.
to each of us.
directly to our hearts.
i believe, anyway,
that that is how they were intended 
by their creators,
provided their sincerity.

even this one
(sincerely).

what they mean
though 
is up to you,
always,
and your ability to hear.
or your willingness.

my prayer for us all
is that we allow in
the voices of the world’s poems. 
they come to us in the cry of a child,
or mourning mother. 
and their laughter.
they come to us in a lover’s broken heart,
or its longing.
they come to us to wake us up to awe,
or to shout with utter brilliance the stark reality of a cold world.
they come to us of their own accord,
but eventually leave us all alone.
each and every one. 

they come to us as faith
and settle in silent waiting as hope. 

they come to us as death,
and life.

each in its own way
beautiful.

i know what i intended when 
these words were caught and written down 
on this lonely moment,
and when i was thinking of you. 
and i think of you often.
and all the time. 

hear what you will from them.

but consider please this second prayer of mine:
go write your own.
or better yet,
let your one
and extraordinary, miraculous life
be the poem that was intended to be written
and read,
and sung.

and may the rest of us,
if we dare to have our own hearts broken
(my third prayer would be exactly that),

may the rest of us,

listen. 

Adding on from Friday. Maybe the two should have been swapped.

Oh well.

---

Live, Laugh, and Love

Always and Ubuntu,

~ kert

And with Ahimsa!

🙏🏼

Mine and mine alone, such as there is.