Max Reif - Word Magic

Prospero waves his wand:

the words asleep in the dictionary
arise, flapping black wings.
Filling the sky with chaos
they fly in his eye, out his ear,
or the other way around,
dipping their wings in his memories
before settling down on the page
where they roost in luminous patterns.

A reader opens a book:

can you hear the cacaphony?
The sky is blackened again,
as they make for his head and his heart,
some for his limbs or his neck.

That's what fools don't see
in the writing, the reading of poems.

Max Reif

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/word-magic/