The Poets all march to the edge- <br />some perching <br />at the abyss of Screaming Desire; <br />Hearts exploding <br />Love reeling; <br /> <br />say not to those that Poet <br />that Desire is loathing <br />for those that believe this <br />back away <br />while we others <br />leap over Faith's abyss <br />smiling. <br /> <br />The Poets all march to the edge <br />of Faith <br />and blind we do not see <br />beyond the edge <br />we so desire <br />but Courage <br />whispers to our Faith <br />and we make the Swan Dive. <br /> <br />Poets march to the edge of Poetry <br />and some of us weeping <br />asking where did the this poem come from <br />and we kneel in the pew <br />saying <br />what grips me is <br />its Thundering, <br />Awesome <br />Mystery. <br /> <br />All poets march <br />to paper and pen <br />blanked canvas staring <br />secure in the driven-ness <br />that <br />carving out tiny word sculptures- <br /> <br />of noun, simile and metaphor- <br /> <br />will produce Language Hymns <br />to echo all through Literature's Cathedral; <br /> <br />that word miens will sing <br />under that fine canopy <br />whispering; <br /> <br />Its Poetry <br />It's the Poetry <br />within me <br />defiantly <br />being <br />born. <br /> <br />I am <br />Her hostage <br />for good <br />or ill.<br /><br />Lonnie Hicks<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-poets-march/
