How I Found This Poem Hidden Somewhere Along the Way?
I came across this poem almost by accident.
I wasn’t looking for it.
I didn’t even know it existed.
There is always a poem hidden somewhere.
That is the art of being a poet: discovering the poems waiting to be revealed.
Every day during my walk, I pass by an abandoned house. I’ve always loved abandoned houses. I want to walk inside them like a detective searching for traces of the past.
The doos of this house remain shut, probably impossible to open by now. But that was the invitation the house gave me: discover me, reveal me.
Every day I walk past it and close my eyes.
I imagine the inside, the people who once lived there, how they spent their days, and I wonder why the house was abandoned in the first place.
Last week, the poem finally revealed itself to me.
I first wrote it in the notes app on my phone, then copied it into my paper notebook.
I’m sharing it with you exactly as it arrived: unedited.
A poem is a space of intimacy and encounter, a sacred place.
Read this poem:
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