I’m in love with poetry
with the way words sound
in the sacred space of my inner temple
my gods don’t speak in shouts
or whispers
but in the syllables and symbols
s. c. a. t. t. e. r. e. d.
before my eyes
they speak the magic of the tongue
and layers
and layers
and layers
of meaning
tucked one over another
of the ancient mysteries and the modern arts
all in the same poem
how godlike we become
when we write
thought
into
being
godlike [poem]
