Words... be they the silence of thought
and the resounding plea of soul...
for this the poet's heart be known...
Language provides an echo - it is not the original - words are representations, symbols, utterances, that the inner spirit longs to be known - to self - to others and to the ultimate SELF. As a poet, language echoes my heart's lament, my soul's joy and my spirit's quest to soar, echoes holding to praise and gratitude, a sounding sense of purpose.
Words, those markers of thought, sounding within us, hanker for expression. Words, those marks upon paper, our own or that of another find their meaning within us. A poem, its meter, its rhythm, its rhyme, its structure, its pulse, calls for our attentive consideration. Within the words, the line, the totality of a poem, we to find meaning, inspiration, an accord, a resolve, and yes, another question.
Words, those markers of thought, sounding within us, hanker for expression. Words, those marks upon paper, our own or that of another find their meaning within us. A poem, its meter, its rhythm, its rhyme, its structure, its pulse, calls for our attentive consideration. Within the words, the line, the totality of a poem, we to find meaning, inspiration, an accord, a resolve, and yes, another question.
words and visions be they the start
from which pen and paper call to heart
the poet seizes precious moments in time
offers verse free, or with meter and rhyme
upon surfaces vast so does the poet place
words as sounding soul and expressive grace.
Rose Marie Raccioppi
Poet Laureate
Orangetown, New York
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