Free Verse: The Art of Writing


The word is born out of the silence,
so the beginning of writing is to master the pause.

I write, as if stretching my limbs,
numb after a long sleep.

The awakening of the word is like the action of light,
which effortlessly manifests the hidden.

I write, as if climbing a steep rock wall
where the foot of man has never dug in.

The land of the word is an anti-labyrinth: the paths are scattered,
yet each of them leads to the goal.

I write, as if speaking a forgotten language
that only the mouth remembers.

Controlling the word doesn’t bring the abundance
that comes from a miracle.

I write, as if recalling an old melody dissolved in the bustle,
remaining only as a longing for eternity.

First published on Steemit

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