Poet’s Heart

new grass

I heard the family approach before I saw them, the lilt of their Hindi phrasing interspersed with soft laughter. I was on a boardwalk trying to photograph a tuft of new grass growing in wetland mud. Green shoots reached through a tee-pee of the brittle beige remains of its predecessors. I evaluated several angles for a shot, seeking any light I could get to capture this juxtaposition on an overcast day.

“New hope emerges
from the lingering memory
of last year’s growth”

The patriarch of the approaching family spoke not to me but to the grass itself, providing an apt caption for the photo I hoped to take.

A beam broke through the clouds and gifted me a brief opportunity to take my shot. When I looked up from my camera to acknowledge this man who seemed to bring light with him, I saw a face relaxed from time spent with grace.

“You are a poet,” I said.

His eyes met mine and his smiled. “Ah, I would like to be.”

If I could see auras I would have seen his with many rings like an ancient tree, each one adding a more inclusive layer of insight. His family walked by, he took his wife’s hand and they continued their stroll on the boardwalk together. But his light lingered with me long after their musical conversation faded.

Finally I whispered, not to the man but to his spirit, “You have the heart of a poet, dear one.”

His spirit heard me and we were gifted a brief connection in the light.



Chance Encounter

9 thoughts on “Poet’s Heart

  1. I love this. He wished to be a poet. But he was living as a poet. I believe that poetry and the philosophical are intrinsically linked and you certainly can have a poets heart without ever writing “a poem”.
    I would like to think I could aspire to be both a poet and a philosopher – maybe I’m just a dreamer…


    Liked by 2 people

  2. Thank you for your kind words, Maz. Because you are a dreamer, you are both a poet and a philosopher! Thank you for stopping by. I visited your site and you have an artist’s heart. I am very sorry for your losses. Keep writing.


Post a comment.

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s