The Poetry In The Heart Of Hazel
far in the hills of cancainap
she feels poetry like the winds of the mountain
like the forest trees
and she writes them line to line
each syllable keeps on dripping
like the raindrops from the
roof to her footsteps
i have read what she sends me
day by day through the internet
i could have told her that the metaphors
are still looking for her because she did not put them
i didn't. Finally i did not tell her. In her lines i have seen
how her heart is burning like the wildfires in the forest
and no kind of criticism has the right to put it off.
i know, perhaps after four summers, she and her metaphors
soon shall meet. And there will be a big feast.
A truce, perhaps between feeling and discipline.
Art is always a patient listener
and in such slow
touches and brushes it paints more beautifully
than the warm hands of reality.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Added by Poetry Lover
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