I saw a picture the other day
not a picture but a split second scene in real life
by the beach
am overhanging shrub
and a tiny sunbird
suspended in mid air
wings flapping
while it drank nectar from a flower
a scene of beauty fought in a split second
but taking lines and paragraphs even to describe its momentary beauty
int hat struggle
is poetry born
to capture the fleeting moment
a sensation flickering in the twilight
so we may think words words words
so much to bore us with
but with literature
in the poetry you read and plays and prose
you have a gift
where the writer had sifted through thr millions of words at his disposal and picked the best arrangement of them to convey something precious ro you across ages
an idea
momentarily felt or seen or touched
but now immortalised forever
- cue Shakespeare sonnet
New ways of seeing, of dreaming - for yeats
add chat line for what can words do
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