I am going to tell you a secret.
\nI write a poem in a second,
\nin a heartbeat.
\nMy life is too fast to be composed,
\ntoo light to be weighed.
\nIt is a feather that refuses to land.
\nA raindrop that never hits earth.
\nIt is the nature of my soul.
\nIn everything else I wear shoes.
\nI laugh and weep.
\nI am anchored and confused,
\nbut in a poem I am free,
\na rope without knots,
\na shadow that belongs outside,
\nlove that kisses without thought.<\/p>\n
So my poems belong to nothing,
\nand everything.
\nThey are exhaled breath
\ncoming from my heart.
\nOnce, I thought,
\nfrom the sheer love of poetry,
\nI could compose a line,
\nand I worked and thought,
\nand felt my heart break,
\nmy hands grow numb,
\nmy eyes mist over from a storm.
\nI could not write.<\/p>\n
I could not compose.
\nI was a bird with broken wings
\ninside a cage,
\nlistening to the world,
\ncalling and unable to go,
\nuntil one day I found the door open.
\nI saw the immensity of space.
\nI heard my name from a distant door
\nand I flew without thinking,
\nfelt the joy of openness
\nand going everywhere.
\nI found a place for my song,
\nresounding off sky,
\noff trees,
\noff faces,
\nand so telling,
\nI give you my secret.
\nI do not write poetry,
\nit simply comes, a cherished companion.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
I am going to tell you a secret. I write a poem in a second, in a heartbeat. My life is too fast to be…<\/p>\n