Can one know the mind of the poet?
I think not.For they themselves are unsure as to their true identity.
They are the painter, the story teller,the linguist, the historian,
the dreamer and dream catcher. They give and they take away in words
that which is longed for, that which is sought after: the unobtainable.
And yet in a few brief words, worlds are created, dreams are dreamed
and adventures begun. Within the poet are all that we desire,
all that we hate and all that we remember and long for again.
The poet is the unknown, and yet their words have a familiar sound,
a familiar vision of that which was, that which is and that which is
to become. They are the uninvited and the invited guest of the mind,
of the heart and soul. Compelled to be …
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