InkoArda

Fire and ghosts guide us As we walk a shallow path Caged in light and dark

Beauty is a cage When surface is all that's seen Freedom lies beyond

I’m a poet.’ He called to the crowd. A young man, sure that all around were blessed to hear his mating call. ‘I’m a poet.’ He sang to the sea. A lone man sure that such beauty could be praised by he or none at all. ‘I’m a poet.’ He spoke with a farm hand. Sure his love keener for the land And his fair words, the greatest harvest of all. ‘I’m a poet.’ He roared at her grave. Sure that from his pain, lesser hearts were saved. Still alone; not mighty but broken and small. ‘I’m a poet.’ On his deathbed he cried. Knowing he’d known no life as he died. Wi