And the silken, sad, uncertain rustling of each purple curtain Thrilled me- filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before; So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating, "'Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door- Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door;- This it is, and nothing more.
When we were young, we were told that poetry is about voice, about finding a voice and speaking with this voice, but the older I get I think it__ not about voice, it__ about listening and the art of listening, listening with attention. I don__ just mean with the ear; bringing the quality of attention to the world. The writers I like best are those who attend.
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When we were young, we were told that poetry is about voice, about finding a voice and speaking with this voice, but the older I get I think it__ not about voice, it__ about listening and the art of listening, listening with attention. I don__ just mean with the ear; bringing the quality of attention to the world. The writers I like best are those who attend.
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Share your dreams and they will be inspired. Plant seeds of knowledge and they will grow and reproduce beyond measure.