I said soul of a poet, I did not say a famous poet, I did not say the best poet, I did not say the perfect poem...I said soul of a poet.
I pick words carefully...read the words carefully.
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The soul of a poet lives in wilderness, an aloneness, a solitude...
This is the place where all starts to flows...this is the water spring, the source...
In a couple of lines, your life is encapsulated. Your life is encapsulated. Yours.
A word here, a word there, and you find yourself...you find the word that you've been searching for all your life. You find the image, the mirror that speaks to you.
And you're comforted in the solitude of your own soul. For the poet always speaks to you through himself...
