Thursday, March 4, 2021

What Is the Purpose of a Poem?


A poem leaps, lilts, swirls and sings 
Syllabic waterfall




 
A poem may not change the world 
But it can cheer the heart 
A eureka of joy unfurled 
Where secret sorrows smart 

A poem is a butterfly 
Perched on spring’s budded hold 
From a cocoon of winter-sky 
Hope’s welkin wings unfold 

A poem is a gift composed 
Of ink-wrought counterpanes 
Where words weave wonders juxtaposed 
With troubles aches and strains 

A poem probes beneath Façade 
To tug at tender strings 
That keep the soul attuned to God 
Amidst a mess of Things 

A poem leaps, lilts, swirls and sings 
Syllabic waterfall 
It tumbles from ten-thousand springs 
In metered madrigal 

A poem paints its scenery 
With ordinary jot 
While spilling an art gallery 
To theaters of thought 

Ah, here a darling daisy beams 
And there a meadow-brook 
Its bank, a haven for daydreams 
A fishing pole, a book 

A poem unveils city-streets
Upon a parchment tray 
It teases sound of hurried feet
To paper-work-a-day  

A poem is the salt sea-air 
Where farewells sweep and surge 
And Poem is a tender prayer 
As seasons ebb and merge 

A poem is Beauty at large 
An earnest work of praise 
God, guide those who shoulder the charge 
Of unearthing its phrase 

...because a poem is far more
Than fickle fits of rhyme
A poem keens us to a Door
That ushers us from Time

© Janet Martin

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