A Gift on Parchment
A poem on poetry
Poetry is nearer to vital truth than history. ~Plato
Last night a heavenly muse visited me, startling me there in the dark
She whispered softly quietly and directly into my heart,
“Wake up darling daughter the world is drifting into an unkind way
Heaven’s windows are open there is much for you to say.”
Kingdoms away I escaped reality and time for an endless eternity
She sat quietly beside me honing me into the dominion of fantasy
A realm bursting with make-believe as reverie stills fancy creativity
Compilations, imaginations, day-dreams in dazzling clarity
“Write these words tonight for tomorrow you will not see
Nor remember this splendid grandeur existing within thee.”
“Scouring your memory seeking words of wonderment
To invent awe-inspiring phrases out of majestic enchantments.”
“When morning comes this all fades as just a dream.
From heaven’s windows flows lofty visions original and supreme.”
“Humble yourself before His glory and honor, and gracious mercies.”
“Remember to be grateful to Him for lavishing your illustrious needs.”
She kindly ushered me to my writing desk, sat, and begin to read
And with every word I’d written she nodded and did graciously receive
“Tomorrow I will wake you to another night of musing stimulations.”
“You will ponder and consider in deliberate contemplations
On poems to write and songs and fantastic stories to inscribe
I will compose a draft from your heart of musings that are inside.”
“You will be read throughout the ages people will read and review
Your compositions are more acclaimed than writers before knew”
“Just ask the Creator for everything He has all your blessings awaiting
Most of them you did not seek yet He has given to you predating”
“Designing your heart and mind to ponder reflect and gracefully write
Marvelously forming all your gloriously works for others’ delight.”
With gratitude and graciousness, I was obligated to produce
This munificent — poetical effuse — is from a heavenly muse.
“Poetry is the revelation of a feeling that the poet believes to be interior and personal which the reader recognizes as his own”. ~ Salvatore Quasimodo
Thanks for reading.
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