Poetry Is:

It's a wolf's lone howl

On a cold black night.

The rain on your roof

While you're safe and dry.

It's waking by the birds

On a warm spring morn,

And falling asleep to the cicada's call

A baby's first laugh

And a heartbroken tear,

Knowing that the end is far,

And success is near.

It's the rhythm of the earth,

That circulation

Saying that we are all here,

That we are one.

And that, my dear,

Is poetry.