Where Poetry Hides

Poetry hides in sorrow.
Poetry hides
In the tears that flow down your face,
In the screams of envy and pain,
In the agony you have yet to feel,
In the lost love that died long ago,
In the empty space resting on the pillow.
Poetry hides in sorrow.

Poetry hides in love.
Poetry hides
In a stolen kiss on a rainy day,
In late night cuddles and whispers,
In soaring hearts that play with the future,
In broken hearts that stay in the past,
In caring hearts that return to heal a wound.
Poetry hides in love.

Poetry hides in anger.
Poetry hides
In the frustrated mumbles of a mad child,
In the violent screams of a hurting parent,
In the hard punch of the grieving,
In the silent whispers of the annoyed.
Poetry hides in anger.

Poetry hides in happiness.
Poetry hides
In the serene spring meadow beyond the hill,
In a peaceful drive down an empty highway,
In a final rest after a long working day,
In the joy of watching a child grow,
In the perfect snow that has yet to be touched.
Poetry hides in happiness.

Poetry hides, only from those who don’t look.
Poetry is the stars in the sky,
And the birds in the trees.
Poetry is the fish in the water,
And the cats when they sneak.
Poetry hides,
Where poetry hides.