Tuesday, March 18, 2014

Poem: To Each A Song



Oh singer, sing the song you hear,
wrap in ribboned words
the tune that teases you at dawn.

Weaver of words, do not shy away,
every moment is exquisitely dear,
here for span of one breath only.

Sit yourself down and open the gift,
summon truth with a heart stripped bare
and scratch it across white paper.

This is important:
     Trust the ancient music.

For this you were given a voice.
The song that is yours alone
is needed in the world. 




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