Be the raven and the crow;
Search for things you do not know.
Be the magpie, should you desire
To uncover things once lost to fire.
Be not like the mockingbird,
Repeating any sound or word,
But be the raven or the crow,
Saying only what you know.
Be the raptor - the eagle, the hawk -
Prey upon those who mock.
Be the magpie, if you desire,
And find things once long lost to fire.
Hear the robin, hear the jay,
But listen not to what they say.
Do not be the mockingbird;
Do not heed just any word.
The owl and the nightengale
Will say under the moon-glow pale,
"Be the Raven, be the Crow
And tell me what I do not know."
A poem is a feeling
Made up of words and lines.
Sometimes it has a rhythm;
Sometimes it (almost) rhymes.
A poem is a song
With an inaudible tune;
The notes are there, the movement, too,
But they are up to you.
A poem is a tale untold,
And one we'll never know,
If you don't let your words unfold
And let your brilliance show.
What I once considered nightmares
I now regard as blessings.
No longer trying to impress,
I seek to feel adequate.
We tried to find our way around
That strange world six feet underground
And listen to the silent sound
To seek what we'd already found,
But there we saw we'd run aground
What kept the world on turning 'round
Just so that we could surround
And drown out heaven's only sound.
But fear not, child! For we've found
The world can keep on turning 'round -
Just keep your soul here on the ground,
And be sure not to make a sound.
I'm tired of giving up,
But too tired to stop.
I missed you then and I miss you still;
I miss you now as I always will;
It's my fault, and it will always be,
That I'm missing you eternally.
Not the present I have now, but the future I dread that now stands on the horizon, waiting for me.