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Greek philosopher Plutarch said that “Painting is silent poetry, and poetry is painting that speaks.”

Chilean poet Pablo Neruda spoke to this too, “… my poetry was born between the hill and the river, it took its voice from the rain, and like the timber, it steeped itself in the forests.”

We each have poetry within us… the silent poetry of painting or imagery… the poetry of words painted by our emotions.

And we each have our own inspiration — also known as awen (Welsh) or imbas (Irish) — for that poetry.

Where do you find your poetry?

How does it express itself in you?

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