poetry is probably the hardest art. our classics of the nineteenth century they wrote even poems that five "necessarily" indicative or transformer? music example seems easier, which would explain to me how Ferré revives Baudelaire, Rimbaud, etc.. -But it is also possible that I am less inclined to taste the "fruit" of the poet, and before my youth was less pervasive, although more sensitive ...
poetry is the art more elusive. -As if the soul the truest never took any part in what tarnishes the slightest neurosis.
then. after. only the hand writes.
among many - I think currently Desjardins and Ferré - very few lines abound dimensional, very authentic breakthroughs of soul embedded in a more prosaic poetry:
because God will not speak in our way so "familiar", then it seems to me that we must work as a craftsman, caring, truthful, so as to condition, "in Home "the irruption of the Real in us.
this task as a poet, like everything that can be spiritualized - that is to say all - invites us to integrate more presence, and authenticity.
as and as I write this is particularly incompromission from moment to moment that seemed to fail me. I would say maybe a full transparency to myself, my motivations, and appropriateness of my inner dialogue.
course here is only a special case of "imperative" to live in mindfulness - mindfulness ...
