Bard's Tale

BARD'S TALE

The life of a bard

Can be hard

Standing outside

Looking in

Telling tales of life

Honed through strife

Journeying alone

Within bemoan

The urge to express

A myriad of thoughts assess

And time to time, digress

It is with gratitude

Not self serving attitude

That this role is given

T’is for me

A path focused, driven

To open ones heart

For a start

Is not easily done

But once begun

Takes on a life of its own

And a path is shown

Direction comes from without

Not from me, no doubt

I scrawl on paper

Lest the words become vapor

And pen a tale

For all to see

Not knowing

How it will be

Once the words are down

Though not for renown

My being is spent

And in expression

content

From each of us within

Come countless tales

That’s where I begin

These are common to all

Similar joys and woes

To each of us befall

And I hear the call

Though bound together

In commonality

I feel alone, in reality

Watching others stories unveil

Makes mine seem pale

And a life seemingly, derailed

For me do not sorrow

For when I feel the urge

On paper I purge

And following this

A sense of bliss

For with each of you

I didst commune

And for but a moment

Our hearts attune

-Shiidon, April 2010

I see a poet as a bard in some sense. I tell tales in poetry, just no music. I think playing the trumpet doesn't quite work with a bard like a lute or guitar would. I rely then on the meter of the human voice and the rhythm of the words. I have mentioned before that my cousin once said that if you want to know me, read my poetry. Well, while it is true, most of what I write is evoked from self or emoted from experience, I somehow can reach a bit beyond that. Two people can see a painting and interpret it two different ways. I have found the same with poetry or writing. I think what is written comes from a point of commonality. It is the essence of our spirit or self. Somehow, it brings us together. It is the beauty of the arts. Like a bard, I write to an unknown audience, telling tales and spinning yarns. So, dear reader, I hope these poems bring something to you. This photo, by the way, is me at the Great Wall, China.