Composing Poetry

It is not my fault that I choose silence Rather than thinking through every word Silence thinks for me Every word is selected in mystery Every syllable distilled by the Spirit Every poem is a gift Handed over to me In the most amazing way Poems are slipped into my heart By the hands of mystery The hands of silence Are mysteriously smooth Not even a noise Just silence Until the last word is assembled Composing poetry is not a logical event It is full of mystery It is mystery Only the Soul Knows the truth Behind every poem Its root and stem Is buried deep in mystery I am only an empty vessel To decipher the poem And hand it over to the world Poetry is a gift to humanity A mirror to cast light into our lives And unveil the true essence of life For me, poetry is the language of God And Silence is His voice And Love is His Majestic face Inspired by my friend Benedixio Moore Khoti