Voices From Afar

A man who was a poet,

sat on the bank of a river

and thought how he was an outcast.

Season after season,

the beauty all around him,

brought much inspiration,

but only the wind whispered in his ear –

there were no voices from afar.

The river often made music,

like the inspirational songs,

the muses sang to him.

In his poems, he spoke about loneliness

and the days that drifted on endlessly.

By choice, he lived alone,

by choice, he never looked for friends,

but at times he longed,

to share his thoughts,

with another poetic heart.

So lonely without a friend nearby,

his words were picked up by the wind.

They were carried far and wide,

to many other places,

where the wind whispered,

in other ears.

A man who was a poet,

sat on his front porch.

He was enjoying the sunset,

thinking of writing a poem.

He was tired of his neighbors –

who fought all of the time.

In their lives, there was no rhythm or rhyme

and most of all, there was no love.

This moment of peace surely wouldn’t last,

then words drifted into his ears.

They were sad, lonely but definitely poetic

and he took them to mind.

Now the poem started to unravel –

I sit by the river all alone and despondent,

but there is such beauty in the sunset,

that it gives me new hope.

A kind of mellow glow,

that blends together well

and gives a sense of peace.

Together even though they were miles apart,

they had begun a poem that came together,

the words flowing now easily

and the wind picked up their words once more

and blew them along,

so that every poetic heart could feel their warmth –

letting everyone hear the voices from afar.

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Rasma Raisters

I am a poet and writer. I write for many different sites online. I have two published books of poems on Amazon - Poetic Thoughts Fly and On the Wings of Love.

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