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..."