JOY OF POETRY
Just for the fun of it,
To dance with the shadows on the wall,
Disappearing into the stream of morning,
Right with the life of new light
For the song that thrills the heart
To hear,
No,
To listen to the song bird,
When dawn clambers up the ladder of night,
Fetching the coat tails of dark clouds
The quiet rippling waters, pretending
Nothing of tsunamis dwell here,
Only Neptune, on an obsidian throne
With trident intentions for waves
The fantasy in reality, tearing from
Old books; history, story, memory,
Worthy of a griot's voice, and eager ear
Or eyes, to seek the beauty of an ixora
For wanton pleasure, and absolute void,
Sensing words, in universal spheres,
Where touch is sight, and sight sees
The fragrant day, in a falling blossom.
Truth be, the cocoon buds to bear
The weight of the winds, wafting
With the gravity of saying and telling
Hidden crevices that wing their way out
© gillena cox
Midweek Motif: The Joy of Poetry
