Poetic Inkwells and More

 The Poet's Ear                  by Clara Mitchell Words flood into the poet's ear. If such rapids continue too long, I will soon go deaf. This tide pulls me to my desk. Divine inkwells awaken this moment. Pure words capture my insight. Scripts drip with fresh ink. I hear the verse form One by one-- The verses recite a new poem. The Holy Oracles of God Like a flood, Have left eternal marks  In the poet's inner ear. The inner ear is a sanctum-- Call it my temple, or dwelling Place for my inner man. The words are gone. Inspire me again. The water lines are proof-- These ears will hear again and again. The poet must finish the poem. The poet's ear creates like a musician-- Who can play by ear. The poet's words are an arrangement Composed by the Holy Spirit. The hidden directing force  Behind all the curtains of life.

  The Pen in Hand          by Clara Mitchell My pain is a blessing as I hold tight to my pen. The pen in hand Creates from my genius. The genius is like a genie. Rub the pen and paper Let the ink of genius soak deep into the paper. Soaking up its power and like the anointing, I move into another place. It is the secret place where the genius And poet's inkwells meet up with God. It is a paradise of revelation. A holy time and a time to see Visions from God and hold the new Ideas as tight as I hold my pen. My poetry is like a movie premiere. I must go through many takes before The director-- in this case, God-- Is ready to finish the process. A new art is now ready To attach to the womb Of the minds eager for new life From the hand of God's poets. God's poets, the genius Will extend the themes to time, And time will carry the lineage Into new generations to enjoy. Oh, the lifetime of poetry Is eternal when God is t...