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World Poetry Day
I came to the late realization that today is world poetry day. Very fittingly it is also Forests Day and the first day of spring here in Canada. I saw my first robin today! I am smiling. Every day is poetry day, as I meet the dawn to join in her annunciation. To be. To breathe. To witness the gift all over again.
What to share? I have several poems on the go. Not quite ready yet. They move through me slowly. I’ll never be one to share a poem a day here. The words don’t find me that way. They peel back the layers slowly. Never in a hurry. We dance slow. They meet me where I am. When they leave me, I am not the same.
Looking back at older poems I want to keep writing with them. Changing the line breaks. Adding sounds. Diving deeper in her spaces. Diving deeper into her soul.
When a poem ends it’s still moving. French poet Paul Valéry said that “no poem is ever ended”. After writing a poem and after reading a poem it is still moving. Somehow it is still watching me. It is keeping a pulse on me . It is keeping a pulse in me. Canadian poet Dom Domanski wrote that, “Poetry helps to enhance and deepen our experience of existence, not just by the use of words, but by the fact that despite their use something else is carried along with them.” Poetry exists due to what language cannot say. Poetry enters into language. It is not part of it. Poetry is interested in what is on the other side of language.
I will share this poem from my early days here on the stack. It is unchanged, although I will be back to meet her again.
I will leave you with this thank you. In gratitude. Thank you for being - here. Sharing into the words. Sharing into the transformation. Sharing into the spaces that connect the love that we all are.
I don't know you, you don't know me,
yet a light flickers off your face to mine;
unintentionally I join your annunciation,
Its cry to the holy winds.
Lucian Blaga
Poetry
She arrives
As a knowing
That watches me
Yet resides in my bones
She arrives
Giving birth
to just one word
More come to follow
The ripple now a widening circle
That weaves the tapestry of what I see
She finds me
everywhere
She guides me
into the mystery
As wisdom
She knows I am nothing
As love
She knows I am everything
I am a life she writes
as I dance between the two
Darkness to light
Day to night
From dusk til dawn
From cradle to grave
She sings a song
A song that I hear
Into the now of here
I inhale this moment
I breathe her out slow
Poetry is the journey
that walks us home
We were never the answer
We were always
the poem
© Jamie Millard
Happy World Poetry Day!
Happy for-rests day. Happy spring.
We are the poem. Always. All ways.
Bless you in the annunciation of all you are.
Thanks for Being-Here.
I don’t know you. You don’t know me.
Yet mirrors we shall be.
Lots of Love,
Jamie
I am so deeply grateful that our paths crossed those many moons ago, Jim. Thank you for your words and your presence 🙏💚
"When a poem ends it’s still moving." Amen!