Of Poetry

Do you read me
with eyes open or half-closed
Do you read me at all
or do you simply see words
strutting across a page
stilted actors on a stage….
like a ripple on the sea
fading into obscurity
Do you feel the heat
The chill
A heart beat
when the night is still
Tell me, how do you
read poetry?

The essence of you
pulses in me
Ah, this is my favorite
Rhythm of poetry
Words ebb and flow
They rise and fall
and yet sometimes
I hardly see words at all
as a mystic force
draws me near
in a fearless embrace
I touch your face…
or else I hear
the thundering rain
pounding, washing over me
with pleasure's pain
Ah, this is poetry

Intangible blend
of desire, repulsion, hope
Friend touching friend
learning to cope
with life’s harsher reality
as smiles and tears flow
Fires rage,
and in its afterglow
we re-trace its geography
not with ink,
but flesh and blood
immersed in bitter-sweet fantasy
Or is it a keener sense of God?
Ah, this is poetry…

…to feel without touch
To weep without tears
To dance in the arms
Of faded years

J~