Poetry is my language.
I do not care for beginnings and endings —
it is the present of the present I cherish,
and your truth buried in a picture of the still moment
that makes me thrill as if on a ride
ever deeper into the fathomless.
I said I was taking a blogging break, and I am…But I did not expect that a poem would come to me in these last days of summer that captures how I feel about photography and poetry. So, in the spirit of spontaneity and inconsistency, I offer it to you…
8 thoughts on “Poetry is my language…”
This is truly beautiful, Sherry.
SHERRY! Your poem sends shivers through me. It does everything a good poem should: condenses language to express a vast truth. I want to learn your poem by heart. And the image of light and dark, movement and stillness, mystery…. gorgeous! Thank you.
Sherry, the waves which I love, have the words of poetry which flow so easily with them. Thank you,
Like a painting!
and it’s gratefully accepted and appreciated.
Fabulous! Love the photo, love the poem (and the concept it expresses). Breaks must be good for you. 🙂
Nothing wrong with speaking when the moment moves you. Awesome photo and beautiful words.