Poem on the art of witing

O.P https://mydramalist.com/profile/D_lwl20/feeds/k2xnAcJ✨

Where every word is a stroke
Painting so vividly what is seen in the unseen
Reminding us of the feeling of being lost only to be found with warmth
Where being lost is what the heart aches for
The magic of words cast like spells in a world of sorcery
Reminding us of how words have power
To inspire and shatter
For life is short and each of us a falling star
Caught up in our own uniquely beautiful reality
Blessed by our own life’s little gifts and problems
Which at times elude to have grown bigger than us
Seeming to overshadow the oceanic richness within us
Believing in the power of words to create and shatter the porcelain hearts that we protect in our iron armoured chambers
Inspiring us to cast our own spells
Spells that affect us and others whom we meet and separate from
Leaving our experience never the same
For once touched by the magic of words
There isn’t freedom or any going back
May we get lost more in the beauty and surprising radiance that beams from our ever so dark chambers
Chambers that are darkened only by fickle dusts and debris on the diamonds that lay within.

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This poem is dedicated to the O.P writer and to the many MDL users who continue to inspire and vibe with each other✨✨

 A Prayer for my Daughter 

Once more the storm is howling, and half hid
Under this cradle-hood and coverlid
My child sleeps on. There is no obstacle
But Gregory's wood and one bare hill
Whereby the haystack- and roof-levelling wind,
Bred on the Atlantic, can be stayed;
And for an hour I have walked and prayed
Because of the great gloom that is in my mind.

I have walked and prayed for this young child an hour
And heard the sea-wind scream upon the tower,
And under the arches of the bridge, and scream
In the elms above the flooded stream;
Imagining in excited reverie
That the future years had come,
Dancing to a frenzied drum,
Out of the murderous innocence of the sea.