Cartography

It is a truth

Universally acknowledged

That a poet can only truly speak

The truth of their own life


The deepest flattery

Is when we are told

That our explosive rush of words

Resonates for someone else


That our trembling unveiling

Of our deepest selves

Has touched that deep

Secret part of another’s heart


This lessens our isolation

Writing poetry is an inherently solitary

Reflective and lonely

Walk into the wilderness

Of our own hearts and souls


Full of unexpected detours

Buried memories and hopes

Hidden hunter’s snares

Unanticipated crossroads


That we must stand before

And make a choice

To embrace one of our truths

At the expense of another


I am constantly learning

And relearning

My own inner terrain

Trying to map

This ever shifting landscape


To create a guidebook

To document this poet’s journey

And share my small truths

With the world

18 comments

      1. Haha, but I don’t think that’s so disturbing. I think sometimes I write like a man and sometimes like a woman – we all have masculine and feminine traits.

        Like

  1. Wow that was strange. I just wrote an really
    long comment but after I clicked submit my comment didn’t appear.

    Grrrr… well I’m not writing all that over again. Anyway, just
    wanted to say wonderful blog!

    Like

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