We Go On In Unknown Ways To Ourselves

WE GO ON IN UNKNOWN WAYS TO OURSELVES

We go on in unknown ways to ourselves
A poet may be
Days and months and even years
Without poetry.

When Poetry returns to us
It is a holiday inside
Suddenly one is alive again
The words of feeling come.

When Poetry returns to us
We begin to be again
Oh life without poetry is not Love
And life in Poetry is.

poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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