And it was at that age...Poetry arrived in search of me. I don't know where.
it came from, from winter or a river.
I don't know how or when,
no they were not voices, they were not words nor silence,
but from a street I was summoned, from the brances of night,
from the others, among violent fires or returning alone,
there I was without a face and it touched me.
And I, infintesimal being, drunk with the great starry void,
likeness, image of mystery, felt myself a pure part of the abyss
I wheeled with the stars
my heart broke loose on the wind.
A couple of stanzas from the poem
Now, I know poetry in all forms...all words...all types. When given the opportunity to write, my pen always begins a poem --- free verse is my chosen style. People tell me they like my poetry, can understand it because my poetry tells a story of sorts...something they can relate to in their lives, have experienced...yet did not have the words, to explain yet something they understood.
So, for me, like Pablo Neruda --- "it was in that age" that poetry found me, is me, and words are my soul...my poetry...my life.
Always, I wish you peace, joy and happiness, but most of all I wish you Love
As Ever, Annie