Inside the heart of a poet

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The New Year came with fireworks and promises ready to be fulfilled. This is my first post for 2012 and I want it to be made out of beauty, I want those broken sparkles that I carry to start this day, this month, this year with a smile and a touch of artistry. May you all keep a piece of this post in your hearts and savor it through the 52 weeks of 2012 …



by Pablo Neruda

And it was at that age … poetry arrived
in search of me. I don’t know, I don’t know where
it came from, from winter or a river.
I don’t know how or when,
no, they were not voices, they were not
words, nor silence,
but from a street I was summoned,
from the branches of night,
abruptly from the others, among violent fires
or returning alone, there it was, without a face
and it touched me.

I didn’t know what to say, my mouth
had no way with names,
my eyes were blind,
and something kicked in my soul,
fever or forgotten wings,
and I made my own way,
deciphering that fire,
and I wrote the first, faint line,
faint, without substance, pure
nonsense, pure wisdom
of one who knows nothing,
and suddenly I saw the heavens
unfastened and open,
planets, palpitating plantations,
the shadow perforated, riddled
with arrows, fire and flowers,
the winding night, the universe.

And I, tiny being,
drunk with the great starry void,
likeness, image of mystery,
felt myself a pure part of the abyss,
I wheeled with the stars,
my heart broke loose with the wind.

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Music for the heart, poetry for the soul.

Images- a celebration for the eyes- by my very dear friend Sonam Mandal/ DeadPoet/.

May you all have a beautiful and blessed 2012!

Love & Peace

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© 2012  Broken Sparkles