Greeting Card Maker | Poem Art Generator

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Written: July 10, 2026, for a contest sponsored by Brian Strand ****************** To read a poem is not to hear one it is to enter through the quieter door the voice arrives later. First— the white between words, the hush that carries them, the margin where pen pauses, leaving ink to dry the breath the reader... does your pulse alter, too, when language refuses haste? like dust motes floating in the air. A poem asks almost nothing— only your eyes, your unborrowed attention the age-old act of awareness of remaining stay on board let the line find its own weather seek its own skies. Do not rush the syllable still gathering rain turn the page as though a raw light enters the room opening a window not a feed the world need not refresh to become unworn. Reading a poem is the opposite of swallowing while elsewhere it is the slow intelligence *of tea cooling against the lip *of bread remembering grain *of light crossing a wooden floor one patient inch at a time. Your breath learns the measure it misplaced even silence develops texture— velvet, salt, the gentle spirit— of introspection the soft mineral of whimsy. The Scroll counts motion the poem counts returns one consumes your noticing. The other returns it, leaf by leaf, until language is no longer something you read but something that reads. . . . . .you.

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