Writerly
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I do late at night—
Write
Whatever my heart
Sings—
Even melodies
Of pain for you.
So, forgive me, Love,
The places I go
You can’t come…
But if you did
You’d run—
Be frightened terribly.
And I’d grieve
What you found in of me.
Write
Whatever my heart
Sings—
Even melodies
Of pain for you.
So, forgive me, Love,
The places I go
You can’t come…
But if you did
You’d run—
Be frightened terribly.
And I’d grieve
What you found in of me.
La noche como refugio para escribir, a donde ir para poder sacar lo que hay adentro, @johnjgeddes. Es ella el resguardo de nuestra oscuridad. Seguramente el que se asome a esas oscuridades puede enfrentarse al sentimiento extraño del abismo. El que escribe es un ser que sufre la soledad del espacio, el vacío de la página, pero es su mundo, y en ese mundo él es el creador. Es de noche y te leo!
Como siempre, ¡tales comparaciones poéticas! Poesía ... ¡cómo amo tu poesía!
:-) It was the time when I used to sing whatever my heart says but nowadays very far from the source. I hope the source will call me back .
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Thanks...the heart is very resilient, my friend :)
That's why humans are capable of loving each other . With mind only business can be done. With heart , relationship grows.
Pleasure is all mine .
Yours Reader
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What a beautiful poetry, you can feel the feeling with which it was written in each word. Regards
Thank you so much
Writing is a forgiving friend.
so true...thanks, lydon :)
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@johnjgeddes
Short lines with a lot of hidden meaning I guess.. feeling is all a writing need to carry