I believe poetry is a mysterious language. Perhaps a divine language.

It speaks to the individual, the person, the vulnerability within us.

It’s personal. Therefore, it’s sacred.

On some level I believe poetry is channeled from a higher source. It requires wisdom, discernment and a seeking to interpret its meaning—A seeking for an answer to a question that we often cannot share out loud.

They are the secrets that are shared between your God and no one else. It’s personal.

And thank goodness for it.

How many of us would forever hide away, squander away our beautiful vulnerabilities out of well-intentioned, perceived survival? If we were to share our secrets in the daylight, expose our dear, sweet hearts, we may disappear under layer upon layer of masks because we think it necessary. We think that once we shine that light we are now compromised. But we are not.

We need our secrets.

We need our poetry.

We need another’s poetry, whatever form that may be–words, music, paintings, and many others. For in the poetry that calls us are sacred connections that we live on, thrive on, count on, need. And we need to find our connections at whatever cost.

So here is a poem not for you but for your soul. Allow yourself to open the gates of your heart for even the briefest of moments. Open the gates in order to allow your deepest heart’s desire to shine and for the chance to connect. Let it flicker. Let it dance, even if no one will notice. You will notice. You will know. Of course many of us desire that some other awake, kindred soul would take notice–Take notice long enough to say something, to connect, to maybe even acknowledge us. But that must not be our reason.

Allow the words to sit and stir within. And then allow yourself to delight in the secret that it reminds you of, makes you aware of. Enjoy it completely. Delight in its personal meaning for you, whatever that may be.

 

A Chance To Paint Each Other Gold
by Hafiz

What would make a lover value you over
other lovers they have known?

And tell me about your favorite place to
eat, or the finest meal you ever had.

There is something in caring touch that
your memory has recorded…and holds
dear, because it nourishes as few things
can.

A sincere wanting and need to artfully
give is inherent in love. And love will
get its way; for patience it knows, and
what a strength that is.

We subtract or add to our beauty with
each movement and sound. Look, we have
A chance to help paint each other gold.

The closest thing to amorous play with
God in form should be the goal of any
intimacy between us.

Us, those who seek that sacred friendship,
and can gaze at each other in appreciation,
in places we allow few to ever see.

Shine your light that only you can.

Autumn