Thursday, December 27, 2007

Ears of My Eyes

Poetry is song to be heard by the eyes. It is sculpture to be felt by the mind. It is a canvas to be touched by the human heart. Sometimes that song is raucous and brash. Sometimes the sculpture is coarse and rough. Sometimes the picture is brutal and dark, the canvas abrasive to the point it leaves you heart-sore.

Yet even in the bad times, there is love in the letters that can be felt, touched, and heard by the heart and shared by the spirit. The message may be tough to take, but if it is written with love letters, they may soften the blow and heal the soul. The trick is to listen...with the ears of your eyes.


Ears of My Eyes

Can anguished writing sound harried and hoarse,
And loud enough to scream pain in the ink?
The letters themselves make no sound of course -
Yet they represent what their writers think.
I know angry words can shout in pure rage,
While kind words touch even the coldest heart;
And criticism writ black on the page,
Rips even the closest friendship apart.
True love letters whisper so soft and low,
I re-read them and listen carefully.
Your silent whispers have nowhere to go,
Save to sing to my heart, so quietly
That my heart can feel what my mind denies:
I hear your love with the ears of my eyes...

Mick McKellar
December 2007

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