On passing by a crowded lane, <br />I greet people and their dreams; <br />Lest some call us poets vain, <br />Suspend all blasphemes. <br /> <br />Those who crave an immortal place, <br />Are welcome to share the fire; <br />Now that you’ve joined the race, <br />Scorch not what others desire. <br /> <br />What do poets do? <br />Foremost, they make you think. <br />All this effort which they knew, <br />Surely didn’t come in a blink. <br /> <br />The poet’s message will travel <br />Longer than I hope they do; <br />Poets love to unravel <br />What many won’t undo. <br /> <br />They are masters of words, <br />Bewitchers of senses <br />Soothing balms of the soul <br />Protectors of Order, <br />Soothsayers of Old. <br /> <br />They are Wordsmiths, Diviners, <br />Mentors, and Friend, <br />Blessing the Lost <br />With their Omnipresence. <br /> <br />Beckoning now like the distant thunder, <br />With dazzling bolts of lyrical rhymes, <br />Awakening the thoughts to plunder <br />The sweetness of enraptured times. <br /> <br />Now the poet will move the unmoved, <br />And speak like the tongue of the mind; <br />They’ll ensure their efforts be proved: <br />That they speak for humankind.<br /><br />Subroto Chatterjee<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/to-poets-and-about-them/
