The Fire That Comes From Cold Embers


“The poet, therefore, is truly the thief of fire.
He is responsible for humanity, for animals even; he will have to make sure his visions can be smelled, fondled, listened to; if what he brings back from beyond has form, he gives it form; if it has none, he gives it none. A language must be found…of the soul, for the soul and will include everything: perfumes, sounds colors, thought grappling with thought”
― Arthur Rimbaud


My heart speaks silently
tho sometimes it screams
in its search for meaning
for connection
stuck in its babel tower
along with so many others
crying in its own separate tongue
What does it take to understand?
Where is the commonality?
Without arms I reach out
and pull back
If I have fire to share
than what cold embers
shall I encourage to glow?
I have done this before
and watched an inferno develop
I have had these moments
If we can not understand
than we can be together in incomprehension
Connection is Made.
— G A Rosenberg


Blessings, G


Click on images to see full-size:


In the TunnelsIn the Tunnels by G A Rosenberg


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