Dawn : Poems & Thoughts

For Pierre Sotér ?Writing a poem is like sailing oceans at the mercy of shifting winds and streams that carry uncountable words, some emanating from the still, unseen deep, others from the ever changing emotions that flutter and sometimes rage at the surface. It may also happen that a poem wants to write itself, for poems can have feelings and secrets of their own, which we never imagined, only revealed when one begins to write. The extraordinary discovery that it implies, it?s what makes the adventure of writing poetry the more exciting and worthwhile. Unique.? The above feelings are certainly well reflected along the pages of DAWN. And Pierre Sotér explains, in the foreword: ?Within my limitations, I wrote this book with deep respect and admiration for the art of many great classical and modern poets, and sympathy for all those that have courage to expose their feelings. The book reveals some feelings of mine and a few opinions. It is the first book of a trilogy about emotions, love, joy and sorrow, beliefs, and thoughts on life. About the world we live in, the Universe from where we came, and to where we will return one day. It is a book about lions too, birds, rain, the sun and the sea. It is about living creatures and stones. And Gods, time, existence and the naive hope of an eternal restart. It starts at Dawn.? Cover poem, "Dawn" In that part of the day that briefly follows night before the turning finds the steady lying line, from where the biggest star will mount and will get bright, I turn my inside out and start to lift my spine. In that part where the day does break there are no words, and the mystique of primal mist floats through the air, the pace it feels divine, and sounds are from the birds while I open my arms, to life my dreams declare. For one day is a chance to take another breath, to follow the moving, which is in nature?s being, the strife of rise and fall, the aim of birth and death, the game that we must play but with the rules of living. And should I miss one day the magic of the Dawn, I would tread in dusk long before the Sun had gone. "I Travel"   I go now, I travel,   I?m letting my mem?ries unravel,   around me, forgotten,   old tokens of passions begotten.   Affections,   grew stronger than I can attest   since we once were each other?s best   and all small things a huge delight.   Reactions,   grow weaker than I can pretend   till there won?t be much left to mend   what Time does steal, what time does bite.   Tomorrow, I?ll travel,   I?ll dream of ad...