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Plato's Groove


Wanted to share with you another one of Plato’s beautiful poems. But please don’t just read it here. Stop by his website, Plato’s Groove, and hear his beautiful reading of The Gift.





The Gift

I was desolate

Lying still among the debris

In desperation I wrote, seeking

Needing some response, some touch, some signal from the universe

All was void

Perishing for lack of me

Her genesis, Her magic lies in her attention, what she sees

Dying ember

Her heart noticed

A bruised reed She would not break

A smoldering wick She would not snuff out

She saw beauty in the brokenness and as a child would She clapped for joy

She did not attempt to brace up the reed or give it instruction

She found wonder in the ember as it was

And as she clapped her hands it fanned a fire

Her mere interest helped the reed straighten it self

Her gift was not in the doing

It was in the being of Herself

And in the recognition of the beauty found in ashes

She is my hero