Blindly
Touching the
Naked thorns of
Enigma,
POETS
Can be more
Can see more
Can feel more
Without deepening
The colors of the
Blossom;

Sipping the wines and vinegars
Of the least excruciated life – poets
Breathe newness while shedding
The pall of past pretensions;

And with reverence –
Touching souls with delicate
Acumen – poets sense inspiration
As an Eagle with out-stretched
Wings comprehends the
Heavens and moon;

Becoming one note,
Inapposite, swirling and twirling
To establish a home on the stave
Of a more exalted symphony

Richard Lloyd Cederberg