Poetry is, of course, the original form of a language, any language, and in the simple articulation of a spoken word approximates to that ancient world in which every sound and every meaning was imbued with magic and mystery or the miraculous unknowing of an infant’s innocent mind as humanity itself that sees and hears or feels the infinite in every cloud or star and flowering love for all of life and living being. When we sacrificed rhythm for functionality, a light was lost – not unlike a fallen Angel spiralling into darkness; Paradise lost, indeed.
Daedelus Kite 
8 replies on “Poetry”
Wow, greatly put.
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Thank you.
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How are you doing? ❤
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Hi Amber. I am ok.
How are you?
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Good to hear. Your posts are absolutely great, love to read and expand my awareness horizons…
I am keep going, life is rough.
Do you have much planned for future posts? I’m sure you have some great ideas.
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Thanks again.
Life is rough everywhere and everywhen. We just keep going. It is what we do, what life does.
I have no plans… words write themselves, quite naturally it seems.
– Graeme
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Indeed. Well said. 🙏
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Hello – I like this post. And Dad would have too! Love xxx
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