Waking-up At Dawn

© Marie Bortolotto 2024



Twenty five years ago

I moved to the mountains

Inspired by wandering poets

I followed in their footsteps
Singing words from the heart

City traffic rattles my nerves

Wildfires cut down my breath

Lost in a maze of emptiness

I walk countless pathways

Carrying water, chopping wood

Years dissolve into dust
I’m an old woman now

Shrouded in shades of grey

How many really see me

Beyond the gaze of time

Waking-up at dawn

I compose poetry in the park

Content with the way of things

Listening to the voice of silence

Nothing and everything speaks

Note: Poetry as an oral art form likely predates written text.
The earliest poetry is believed to have been recited or sung.

Marie Bortolotto Artist