There is a quiet power

to the words bound to a page,

From descriptions of the rain

To lines of fiery rage.

A poem shakes your hand

And weaves art inside your brain, 

until your eyes swim with letters

And ink runs through your veins. 

To read a poem is to meet one, 

And if there’s one thing I’ve learned

It’s that a poem is so much more

Than a collection of lifeless words. 

The best part is that within

Every single thing I see, 

Beautiful poems stir alive 

And stare right back at me.