An evening I had with Leonard. Myself with five ladies of the hooking craft. Full house congregating to hear him speak. The fluid words of living An elixir to ones soul. This little old man, A modern Pied Piper of life, An influence of modern song That will carry past his physical presence. His ability to stroke that place in ones mind That can lead an audience in silence. Wanting to catch every nuance. The sound of vibrating strings Matching the sound, Of Angels wings, Lift you past his words. Observing the crowd Some leaning forward as if in pews, Not wanting to miss one word of inspiration. Silver haired women, Eyes closed, moistenedΒ Β lips smiling, Modulating to the tunes. Remembering youthful encounters Sensualized by this Poets intent. Grey haired men lip sync As they used to whisper in anticipation In their ladies ear. Youth of today Rising in joy, cheering Will carry the cycle forward. At twelve I heard Suzanne and was captured. I devoured his works Finding poetry was not school house boring. Seeking what had inspired him. The surveyor for oh so many in the path of poets.
Dan Gray April, 2013
I went to see Leonard Cohen for only the second time this past weekend. He's now 78 and probably won't have another chance. His body of work has been an inspiration for me these 46 years that I've had a real interest in poetry.