No More Words |
(March 30, 1994 4321 7th Ave Rock Island) |
by David B. Rhaesa |
What does a poet do when there is nothing left to write When the terrors and horrors in his soul defy expression when the joys and ecstasies of love go far beyond the power of words What does a poet do then? I sit and hope that the terrors and horrors are merely figments of my overactive imagination I sit and hope that the joys and ecstasies will remain with me eternally and I begin to listen more closely to others and I begin to practice the poetic art of staying quiet of silence golden silence hearing a pin drop in the next room hearing the cries for freedom from another continent far away hearing the pain and agony of an abused woman across town hearing the reality of the world which I have fled and escaped from for so long and this time I must face reality squarely and not flinch and not back down relieve myself of all my cowardice and through all the frightful moments maintain hope and faith and above all a serenity which relates to that state of mind we call peaceful. |