Listening, just listening, then suddenly,
a word caught my ear
the way the words roll together
is like music
the words waltz together,
then walk on together.
How does that happen,
letters coming to life, forming words,
then meeting other words?
"Poetry" I mused,
only beginning to realize the power therein
as I resolved to try for myself
to see if I could force my words to interact
as those of Robert Frost.
The pen beckoned,
I found paper, I found a comfortable position,
and I wrote,
never minding how awful those first few poems were.
I stuck to rhyme, to rhythm,
not understanding that poetry was meant to be music,
throwing in a fermata here and there.
The structure was dull,
every other line rhymed,
every stanza identical in length,
like an army of clones,
my poetry marched down those pages.
I had succeeded, for in those first few poems,
I established a beat, a rhythm, the percussion,
if you will...
As time went on, I added the other components of the music,
first the melody,
next the harmony,
for I had realized that poetry was music without the noise.