Am I a poet?
Or have I only found in verse
that which was fated to disappear
from my life.
With eyes closed
to the permanence of truth,
light casts no shadow
unless I go back
to where I began.
I walk toward myself,
tattooed with silent memories,
visible only to those who have walked
the streets with me
and have witnessed
the endless reflection of stillness.
What remains in me was born from love
deeper than an ocean of words.
But waves of words carry me to safety,
and in them I seek and hope to find
my lost heart.
Beguiled by the beauty of art
and the art of beauty, I sculpt my life
from a silhouette of invisible energy
that travels from your soul to mine.
Not a shadow life filled with sorrow.
But one of fullfillment, not only from
the joy of lessons learned,
but from the anticipation
of what is yet to come.
Between within and without,
lonely but never alone,
I am poetry.
I am alive.
© JOHN PISCATELLA
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