Poetry: What Is Poetry?

Poetry pleases my ears
the words sound in harmony,
but not to a foreign tongue.

Poetry draws a picture
to invite my eyes,
but still puzzles my mind.

Poetry blows with wind,
in water he flows,
shouts in thunders,
and bounces as rock n roll.

Poetry preserves his truth,
in secret codes, simple words,
and only reveals it to the worthy.

Poetry sings in my ears,
dances in front my eyes,
kisses my lips,
brings fragrance,
which fills my mind
and imprints my soul.

Poetry tells stories
to accompany my journey,
writes jokes
to convert my tragedy
into a comedy,
and builds a rainbow bridge
where my dream
and reality meet.

He is the poetry
who is an only poet.
He brings the life,
tells the truth,
and shows me the way.

Water of living,
rock of faith,
promise of hope,
conqueror of love,
and the poetry is the poet.

I see poetry on the dirt
that stained the fire fighter’s face.
I see poetry on the blood
that painted the ER angles’ white dress.
I see poetry on the gray hair
of my elementary school’s teachers.
I see poetry on my name
that reminds me a couple’s sacrifice.
I see poetry every time;
I see my love and soul mate.
And I see my poetry running around,
growing up, to be a great poem
as I always dreamed.

Our image mirrors in poetry;
Beasts roam, birds fly
and fish swim in poetry.
Seeds sprout, grass grow,
flowers blossom, plants fruit
in poetry.

Sun shines in the day,
Moon and stars light
the night in poetry.
Ocean gathered, earth solidifies,
and air purifies in poetry.

The light shines in poetry,
as the wind blows,
as the water flows,
the poet composes his poem.