even a word in a sentence,
you hold it there, lock it in and
for a while it makes sense
then it begins to work itself loose
wanting to move
wanting to move on
another appears in its place
an unfamiliar voice,
saying something else;
a poem is a silent tree in spate
one by one its green eyes fall
one by one new eyebrows are raised
only you know it is a different tree
the shadows paint another dark
and whatever is flowering
is not caused by your being;
everything becomes a stranger
once it leaves, once it falls
words, worlds,
people,
even you walking away
carrying a poem
carrying a sentence
cast shapes angled into the sun
as if the light is making love to you
in a different language.
Thank you for this. I found that your wise words were in constant motion, which I feel was the heart of the matter, here. I look forward to looking in on your fine work. g.r.
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Thanks so much. Glad you liked the poem.
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Strange but true
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Thank you so much for stopping by. Much appreciated.
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The secret (if there is any) may be found in an old biblical tradition about welcoming the stranger. Instead of being saddened or resentful that things (and people) become strange and stranger, welcome the change. Welcome the stranger.
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Unless the stranger doesn’t want to be welcomed!! Wise words Magic.
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“a poem is a silent tree in spate
one by one its green eyes fall”
such, such, such, such truths!
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Thanks so much Rosemary 🙂
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you’re welcome! 🙂
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Very impactful. There is a lot of truth in your words.
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Thank you Wendy 🙂
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I so agree and love that you chose to compare a poem with a tree. We may give birth to poems, but just as children do, they find their own way into the world, and are changed and altered by that exposure. A bit (seed) of our original DNA might remain, but is altered by contact with others and their singular and individual understanding. That was so clear to me, once I joined the poetry blog-o-sphere. Every individual reads and takes in through their own filter of experience. They take away whatever has meaning to their own person. Some more than others. Even more so, when the reader is self, years after the writing. Thanks so much for this elegant lesson and reflection.
Elizabeth
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Thanks Elizabeth. People are going go bring their own views to the poem and so alter its existence… a lot like relationships. Only you know how the poem..or by extension, you have been changed in the process.
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You have truly captured “how a poem is born” each word and line carries meaning. Sometimes, I feel like poems write themselves. It’s as if, a compelling force urges one to put the words in a certain form to convey a message.
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Thanks Truedessa.
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This is my new favorite from you Rajani❤️ especially love; “a poem is a silent tree in spate one by one its green eyes fall one by one new eyebrows are raised only you know it is a different tree the shadows paint another dark and whatever is flowering is not caused by your being.” Beautifully penned.❤️
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Thanks Sanaa 🙂
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Beautiful! The way you have used tree to relate to the poem, it’s amazing!
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Thank you 🙂
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I’m looking at trees in a new light and sculpting words with timidity
Really enjoyed this powerful write
Happy Sunday Thotpurge
Much love…
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Thanks Gillena.
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Great use of “WORDS” 🙂
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Thank you 🙂🙂
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Oh I do love this thought on how a poem is born… the image of the trees in the forest works so well… Maybe it’s more about the background of a poem its words… maybe we need to be the poem and find the right moment.
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Thanks Bjorn 🙂
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Closing lines.
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Thanks Sherry. 🙂
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How i love “a poem is a silent tree….one by one its green eyes fall.” Wow! Beautiful vlosing lines, a wonderful write!
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This is so very lovely….such beautiful imagery.
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Thanks so much CC.
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What lovely philosophy surrounding the creation of a poem. I enjoyed.
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Thanks Beverly 🙂
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Oh, what a gorgeous ending! And the whole poem is thought-provoking and persuasive.
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Thank you Rosemary 🙂
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May I reblog this, Rajani? It’s the most beautiful poem about how a poem is made that I’ve ever read.
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Of course…honoured that you want to reblog it. Thanks so much.
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Done! Thank you. https://sarahrussellpoetry.net
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Beautiful….you come up with such beautiful images. I like the idea of light making love in a different language…does not surprise me that your creative mind would envision that thought. Smiles!
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The tree analogy is so perfect here and so is the phrase ‘whatever is flowering’.
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a poem is a silent tree in spate – my favourite line and image in this wonderful poem
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Thank you Jae.
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I really loved this poem – the way a poem changes shape, words change, meanings fall away – the way the familiar becomes stranger –
“a poem is a silent tree in spate” – simply beautifully put
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Thanks so much Laura 🙂
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What a fascinating poem about writing a poem and once published it travels alone getting comments to form its own identity showing even the author new sides to itself as it tackles the world.
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Thanks Robin.
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So meaningful….feeling so good to read it many many times….
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Thanks so much Sreeja. Glad you liked it!
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