Void Thoughts

To be a whisper—
of poetry, or a poet—
wouldn’t that be marvelous?

A letter, a line,
a fleeting theme of verse—
To be any of it—
how wondrous would that be?
Or to be a poem itself!

When I meet a poem,
I feel a perfect union of souls.
Do you think poems wander,
searching for a home,
a place to rest?
I believe they do.

They tumble down
from the tip of a poet’s pen,
sometimes unfinished,
setting off on a journey—
in search of a piece,
a hope,
a spark
to make them whole.

I long to be that missing piece—
to be found by a poem.
I long to live in a poem,
to be a poem.
I belong in a poem—
an imperfect word
bringing profound meaning
to the wandering soul
of poetry.

Poetry, a magical place—
to be lost,
to be found.

I find myself
in verses written long ago.
And I yearn to live
in the poems
yet to be born.

In poetry,
I find my soul
becoming the soul
of the poem itself.

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There’s something magical about poetry—how it speaks to us, for us, and sometimes through us. This poem came from that space where I feel most connected to words, where I wonder what it would mean to be part of poetry itself. I hope “Whispers of a Word” brings you a moment of stillness, wonder, and maybe even belonging.

© Vinitha Dileep

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This piece is written in response to the two hundredth and forty-fifth edition of Fiction Monday inspired by the word prompt – BELONG hosted by yours truly. Do join in if you have a tale to tell.

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