WHAT IS POETRY?
Poetry is nearer to vital truth than history. --Plato
What is poetry?
It is finding the truth, no need to lie.
It's munching on watermelon and letting seeds fly.
It's a letter that comes with a card in the mail.
It's the lacy silver threads left by a garden snail.
It's daffodil trumpets covering the hill.
It's a deer at the creek, drinking her fill.
It's giggling and laughing and being absurd.
It's reading a haiku and feeling each word.
It's a dragon who blows flames, loud and hardy.
I added today's line to this progressive poem because I wanted to include some of the magic I feel when a poem just pours out of me--those are the wonderful (wonder filled) days.
Are there clouds in your sky today? (I was going to write "overhead in your sky," but I can hear the voice of my friend Sally saying, "Overhead is obvious. Where else can clouds be but overhead? Get rid of that word. You haven't told me anything new.")
See if you can find some time to just sit and watch the clouds. What do they make you think of? Let your mind wander and if this creates enough space for your own poem, have fun writing the words down. I hope you have a great Sunday with much to be thankful for. Enjoy the day.