The Paris Poets Society met tonight to say farewell to a member who is moving away. She will be greatly missed. What could I give her but a poem. See you later Sharda.
We are the lucky ones
The gifted, slightly crazy ones
Who see the world in brighter hues
With hearts too big to make us choose
We make one singing moment freeze
Or gobble eternity if we please
Paint with sunlight, wind and moon
Voice a storm, pour out monsoon
Open heart, to throat, to pen
And give it to the world again
Young or old, joyful, shattered
sing or whisper, doesn’t matter
Use your words, we tell a child
But poets play with words and smile
We know a secret, so look around
We share our souls where poems abound
I love that you have a poet’s society. And if people must leave, as they often must do, that you write them poems in farewell. This is lovely in so many ways, my own parched heart feels softened and more open.
Ooh – clapping our hands with glee…poetry is a feast, refuge and wonder…much better to be a little crazy and have the gift of words than normal and wordless (well, i imagine!)