Thank You, Poetry

The first time I met you, Poetry,

              I was silent.

The rhythm of word embodied all

             I could not speak. 

 

 

I felt you,

             as you cradled my heart,

                        and nourished my angst. 

I heard you,

            as you cascaded from the mouths of those

                         surrounding me.

I experienced you,

             as you turned 'Word' to 'Art'

             as you took my soul on an emotional journey

             as you left me vulnerable

                                        and yearning for more;

                      I could not speak. 

 

I felt you,

            as I opened my heart to you.

I heard you,

            as you cascaded from the mouths of those 

                         surrounding me,

                                    I listened,

                                     I learned. 

I experienced you,

            as you turned 'Art' to 'Word'

            as you took my soul on an emotional journey

            as you left me vulnerable

                                       and yearning for more;

                                                        I can speak. 

 

The rhythm of word embodied all.

I called out to you,

              "Thank you, Poetry,"

              "I have a few things I'd like to say to You..."

This poem is about: 
Me

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