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I thought I would share this writing of Khalil Gibran with my fellow poets and poetry readers. This is a beautiful tribute - take it to heart! I did; it is inspiring and makes you want to put pen to paper and create without stopping!

If you are not inspired after reading this, and oh so assured how much your writings have blessed someone somewhere....then I don't know what to say!

The Poet

He is a link between this and the coming world. He is
A pure spring from which all thirsty souls may drink.

He is a tree watered by the River of Beauty, bearing
Fruit which the hungry heart craves;
He is a nightingale, soothing the depressed
Spirit with his beautiful melodies;
He is a white cloud appearing over the horizon,
Ascending and growing until it fills the face of the sky,
Then it falls on the flowers in the Field of Life
Opening their petals to admit the light.

He is an angel, sent by the goddess to
Preach the Deity's gospel;
He is a brilliant lamp, unconquered by darkness
And inextinguishable by the wind. It is filled with
Oil by Ishtar of Love, and lighted by Apollon of Music.

He is a solitary figure, robed in simplicity and
Kindness; He sits upon the lap of Natue to draw his
Inspiration, and stays up in the silence of the night,
Awaiting the descending of the spirit.

He is a sower who sows the seeds of his heart in the
Prairies of affection, and humanity reaps the
Harvest for her nourishment.

This is the poet--whom the people ignore in this life,
And who is recognized only after he bids the earthly
World farewell and returns to his arbor in heaven.

This is the poet--who asks naught of
Humanity but a smile.
This is the poet--whose spirits ascends and
Fills the firmament with beautiful sayings;
Yet the people deny themselves his radiance.

Until when shall the people remain asleep?
Until when shall they continue to glorify those
Who attained greatness by moments of advantage?
How long shall they ignore those who enable
Them to see the beauty of their spirit,
Symbol of peace and love?
Until when shall human beings honor the dead
And forget the living, who spend their lives
Encircled in misery, and who consume themselves
Like burning candles to illuminate the way
For the ignorant and lead them into the path of light.

Poet, you are the life of this life, and you have
Triumphed over the ages despite their severity.

Poet, you will one day rule the hearts, and
Therefore, your kingdom has no ending.
Poet, examine your crown of thorns; you will
Find concealed in it a budding wreath of laurel.

Wow......thats all I have to say.
and also,
thanks for putting this up.

Lonnie

That was totally AWESOME!

Hello..

it was nice sharing these words
..as far as my concern,it is too much..
may you figure out why the time
with its swords,
keeps the things aligned,straight,
then,the poets's touch,
born from words,
shows the beauty of life..
either be there dark,
either be there light..
the poets's spirit,sunk
into the sun's light..

so,too much brave
and sweet words,
have no sense
as at the poets's traces,on their grave
that the dearest ones look now,
as in the time's hard swords,
we may find now,
links to ourselves..
we maintain the stance,
somehow..

reading some deep aspects
of the poem u posted,i note:
there is so much brightness
in those words,and i have a quote:
beauty may express the words..so sweet..
brightness of a statue, and i seek
beyound..and i find,seeking deep,
no life..
and i quote:
"beautifull may it be
the statue..
but has no life,as many see
when looking at it..
better ones considered as poets,to be
alike a small pet..and then,ones will see
how wonderfull it is..
has life..
exists..
it is.."
to call the sculptors now,to make a statue?no way..
i better search for a homeless dog..
either be there hungry,surrounded by fog,
and indeed,i'll keep it near,and it will stay..
and,hey,make now an ecuation..
where it will be that satisfaction?
i remember the arabian poetry
that i sometimes found myself
reading it..
and,shared moments,happily,
tight by the life's belt,
thinking of it..
i remember one song
that charmed my mind..
was the Song of the Rose..
was long time ago..
so long..
but the same tight
that climbed over the rocks,
brought down,
once with it,
a sound..
the flute..
how many times some of the artists listened it?
how many heard it?
the Song of the Rose,
i might tell it,
at least,
what i remember from it..
but,not now..
on another day..
may the flute's sound
to bring u a smile and fill ur day!

H2S04