How blessed is the man
who yields word-weapons
so sharp
so accurately calibrated
instruments of precision
and deep destruction
that they can be used
in abundance
and in silence.
How blessed is the poet
who can fire his word missiles
and, with assonance and lovely rhyme,
describe the beauty of their movement
through the nebulous fog of my mind.
Oh how blessed is he
to wield such power
and mighty alchemy
that the mixing of four letters
could bring about such pain in me.
I wish I had a shield
or a thick castle wall…
a trench or a basement
some place to hide
from the destruction…the fall.
Alas,
clever minds knew long ago
that the pen is mightier than the sword
it yields the force of an atom divided
it brings down an eagle - in the midst of its flight
it blacks out the sun and creates the night.
How blessed you are
when there, from afar
you can shoot your alphabet arrows
straight into my heart.
Elmarie Westerink
who yields word-weapons
so sharp
so accurately calibrated
instruments of precision
and deep destruction
that they can be used
in abundance
and in silence.
How blessed is the poet
who can fire his word missiles
and, with assonance and lovely rhyme,
describe the beauty of their movement
through the nebulous fog of my mind.
Oh how blessed is he
to wield such power
and mighty alchemy
that the mixing of four letters
could bring about such pain in me.
I wish I had a shield
or a thick castle wall…
a trench or a basement
some place to hide
from the destruction…the fall.
Alas,
clever minds knew long ago
that the pen is mightier than the sword
it yields the force of an atom divided
it brings down an eagle - in the midst of its flight
it blacks out the sun and creates the night.
How blessed you are
when there, from afar
you can shoot your alphabet arrows
straight into my heart.
Elmarie Westerink
