The Poet and Their Audience

I shot an arrow into the air,
it fell to earth, I knew not where,
or so wrote the poet long ago,
and we, like him, loose our bow,
empty our quiver into the air,
if they land we know not where,
some strike the head, some the heart,
a hit or a miss, we’ve done our part,
we’ve tried to connect with our fellow man,
a human thing if we can,
and if we fail, just the bid should bring
a warmth that causes our hearts to sing.