A poet is one who dips his quill in the font of the human heart and writes with the inspiration therein.
Aye, the rich thick blood is the condensed cumulative repository of an intensely subjective experience, a flowing distillation of interwoven and intersecting lives, actions, events and their consequences; all lived through the eyes of a unique, precious, unrepeatable I that is me.
I is the epicenter of our lived experience in this world, but should the I cease to be, the world persists. There is no world for I without I, but for so many, the world is unconscious of I.
So, where is your place I ? Are you the source of your own grandeur ? – a compelling conviction, if not ultimately delusional. Or is the greater human community and continuity of which you partake, with all its splendor and shame, a silent witness to a larger destiny ?
The journey has begun.