Life's Single Song

Where does one start?

The beginning is never clear

but through spilling our hearts it is as though we fall apart

Our words do appear and in your hand you hold that beer.

Shaking. You don't know what to say or how to express your deep feelings of utter dismay.

The beginning is now so clear, words of our birth appearing so vast and open for all to hear.

Poetry.

The sweet melody you whisper to the maiden of night being

one that does give you a fright when thought upon by the morning light.

Words so deep and so true, who am I to tell you what to do?

Poetry. 

How queer might one appear when all is open for everyone to see and hear?

Might they sneer at my fears or loath how I hold those I keep dear.
But poetry judges not.

She is a woman dancing in the moonlight with eyes glistening brighter than the stars above.

Poetry is the new born child who holds tight to its mother's arms. 

Poetry is life's only true song.