The poet

Years ago,
I had met him
during a sacred pilgrimage.

I still remember...
the conversations we shared over tea-
how that ordinary moment
slipped into something haunting

His gaze, sharp as arrow,
pierced my inner being
and
His quietude, soft as light,
bent my pride like a whisper.

As the discomfort grew,
I finally blurted out
"Who the hell are you?"
He replied
"I am a poet."

In that very moment,
for the first time,
I was afraid of someone.

Reviews

[Emunah June.]

It is not often that I am stunned silent, but this is one of those times where there was no other appropriate reaction. You have an absolutely beautiful way with words.

The final stanza, however, says so much. "in that very moment / for the first time / I was afraid of someone." There are so many ways to take that, but I personally took it as recognizing and admitting the power of a poet within so many possible scenarios. Most poets feel things so deeply that they often can express themselves in a more meaningful way, so I think the ability to tap into those emotions, unregulated, can be both frightening and invigoration. A poet can make you feel more seen and more loved than you have ever felt before, but they also have the power to find the cracks and crevices within your persona and tear it apart from the inside out. To know a poet is both a blessing and a curse, I fear.

You have an excellent way of releaving this in the way you choose to word your stanzas. This was a journey I both related to and enjoyed. Thank you!