Writing is validated by the one
who reads. Words take on new life
inside your mind, wild birds resume
their flight, and each small, finite page
becomes a field of possibility
each time you make this journey
that my poems invite.
As I write, I try to picture
where this message is received:
deep beneath the polar ice, or with
the snow piled high outside, stark lines
of symbols on the screen appearing
like migrating birds from some
far hemisphere, to herald spring,
entering your unknown world
in ways I can't anticipate, whether
transforming or transformed by it.
The poem I write is not the poem
you read, but somewhere in between.
To the Unknown Reader
© Copyright: Jena Woodhouse, 2003
Свидетельство о публикации №103013100472
Свидетельство о публикации №103013100472
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