Oprah’s recent magazine issue was dedicated to poetry and famous poets. I have always admired those who write poetry. I think I remember when I was first introduced to the haiku. OMG, I thought I was going to pull my hair out! Then, I thought poetry always had to rhyme so I stayed far away from it as a written art form. Too raw. Too complex. Too hauty. But, with this issue of O magazine, I realized for the first time that poems are actually just really short stories. The words don’t have to match, rhyme or make sense to anyone except the writer. Because it is a small expression from the artist who penned it. Poetry used to seriously intimidate me. But now, I am learning to appreciate it. I always loved reading love poems. The one below really encompasses the way I feel right now. Maybe my blog will serve as an expression not only of my standard prose and ponderings but of my attempt at shorter creative production. Cause I ain’t scarred no mo’! 😉 Enjoy!
In My Sky At Twilight
– Pablo Neruda
In my sky at twilight you are like a cloud
and your form and color are the way I love them.
You are mine, mine, [man] with sweet lips
and in your life my infinite dreams live.
The lamp of my soul dyes your feet,
my sour wine is sweeter on your lips,
oh reaper of my evening song,
how solitary dreams believe you to be mine!
You are mine, mine, I go shouting it to the afternoon’s
wind, and the wind hauls on my widowed voice.
Huntress of the depths of my eyes, your plunder
stills your nocturnal regard as though it were water.
You are taken in the net of my music, my love,
and my nets of music are wide as the sky.
My soul is born on the shore of your eyes of mourning.
In your eyes of mourning the land of dreams begins.
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