Poem written on notebook, cup of tea, and note on dried palm leaves.

Winged Words

Winged Words

To write is to abridge time
To write is to abridge feelings
The world in its own way rhymes
And to read is to attain healing

These little notes fly away
Sinking into hearts and minds
Digested, they long and stay
Until eyes settle on next find

Little little winged words
That flutter wonderfully
Till clouds that look like curds
So as to fall down heavily

And pavements of words swirl
As a surreal world is born
Our eyes open, our minds unfurl
And in wild places our heart sojourn

It’s beautiful, the sentence
For it wakes feelings inside
And something, somewhere take the chance
To materialise a verb through insight

And space and time become one
As we write our heart away;
To write is to abridge time
To write is to abridge feelings.



I think that the words we utter and the sentences that we write down are tiny vibrations that make a world.


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