Look not to me, but through; I'm only glass,
a window dimmed by soot, a slab of quartz
sliced to translucence, letting visions pass
within like sappers creeping into forts.
What medium cannot say it distorts
the message given, bends and dims the light?
The channel's full of static, circuit-shorts
prevent transmission. I can get it right
in one way only: giving up the fight.
My will's not mine. Surrender is the key
and I the lock will tumble, falling free
and open into Silence. No more chatter:
if I am glass, then God grant I may shatter,
if I must write, then God grant I may write!
Collection available! Knocking from Inside
'What medium cannot say it distorts the message given. . .' What ever we hear, see, feel, or think carries that distortion. I think that God must allow for that, perhaps some type of equation that changes the original so when it passes through the human soul, it still carries God's grace with it.
ReplyDeleteYour writing continues to inspire me in so many ways. Thank you.
Powerful collection of thoughts here! I especially love the image of the channel filled with static!
ReplyDeleteMy God...
ReplyDeleteThis expresses the innate need a writer possesses . . . to put pen to paper.
ReplyDeleteWell said.
Blessings,
Linda
I love poems about writing! It feels like I am an insider and only one of "us" can understand this poem.
ReplyDeleteThe last few lines are gorgeous.
You are part of this months collection at Poets Who Blog. Please stop by and comment on some other poems in the collection.
Always beautiful and profound your poetry.
ReplyDelete"What medium cannot say it distorts
ReplyDeletethe message given"
:)
there are poems in each line of this poem
how can i thank sara for letting me find all you beautiful people
both of us are together on the PWB September list
thanks for the words
This was splendid. A number of captivating images... I really was taken by this! ;)
ReplyDeleteThis was beautiful.
ReplyDeleteWrite, so that others may understand.
ReplyDelete