Lurking in the natural world
there are sentences, unspoken
always waiting to be written
frozen in time
waiting for the great warmth
of a curious heart
Haunting the edges of the living world
are spirits of the unspoken connectivity in people
dead or alive, the as-yet unborn
caught between planes
waiting for the flashlight beam
of a curious heart
There is an untapped seem of precious understanding
running through the foundation of all things
reverberating in the soulful moments
ringing just loud enough
to be heard by the ears
of a curious heart
Melt me
shine upon me
hear me
with your curious heart…
[2012]
Thanks for reading.
The Lighthouse 
As Leonard Cohen poetically wrote ‘what happens to the heart’
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Has Len been plagiarising me again? 🙂
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Only from his resting place in Montreal ….I would forgive him…..
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That’s how I feel about it too—the stuff we stumble upon and pen down has always been out there, just waiting for one of us to find it. Sometimes I feel like all the beautiful things have been said already, but then I run into a poem like this, and it inspires me all over again.
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It does feel like that sometimes… Often, in fact. You put pen to paper or fingers to keyboard with a blank mind and suddenly find something has poured out of you and you have to question ‘where did that come from, fully formed and seemingly from nowhere’. Maybe it was always there and we just tuned into it for a second. I love your words Larisa and always look forward to reading them.
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Aw thank you for that! I’m like seriously all warm and fuzzy inside now ☺️💕
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Oh, how I love this poem! Love the notion that there is the entire other realm of existence filled with not yet spoken words or soon to be felt emotions and connections. Fascinating and hopeful and thank you for giving me something wonderful to ponder tonight. And maybe even to write about eventually.
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Thanks Alisha, so pleased you enjoyed this one. Somewhat ironically, I have no idea where this poem came from. I don’t think it was something I’d been giving much thought to. I just sat down to write one day and this popped out… I suppose the words were already written and I just channeled them… 🙂 Keep me posted if you do write anything on this subject, as I’d love to read it.
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That truly is my favorite, when poems seem to write themselves. Sometimes we just need to get out of our own way, out of our own mind.
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I’m with you there, 100%. I think the last one of those I wrote was either The Essay or Facture/Fill. I don’t think they come as naturally any more – or maybe life is just a little more hectic these days and getting out of my own way is a ballet I can’t quite master… 🙂
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Thanks Alisha, so pleased you enjoyed this one. Somewhat ironically, I have no idea where this poem came from. I don’t think it was something I’d been giving much thought to. I just sat down to write one day and this popped out… I suppose the words were already written and I just channeled them… 🙂 Keep me posted if you do write anything on this subject, as I’d love to read it.
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