An Ars Poetica

You are my gift, dear poem,
you are like my breath; you wake me,
and sing me to sleep.

You are my gift, dear poetry,
you are like my life’s blood; you energize me
and carry me on.

You are my gift, dear writing,
you are like my body; you move me
and support my soul.

You are my gift, dear Giver of gifts,
you are the Poet; you create
and you keep on creating.

1 Comment

  1. This is wonderful! Everything! I love the “Giver of gifts,/ you are the Poet…” and the poem being like your breath. The waking and singing to sleep is beautiful as well. Bravo…lovely, lovely…

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