Poetry Is
Poetry exists to embody
the harsh wonder of existence,
the improbability of consciousness.
It honors mortality,
measures the precise gravity of joy,
returns us to the infantile delight
of our first words, so happy to discover
that "tree" means we hold in our mouths
that huge, fragrant, shushing thing
under which we love to play.
Because it strives to say the unsayable,
poetry can give pleasure and solace at once,
easing the ache of our essential solitude
by welcoming it.
John Repp
Posted over on TampaBay.Com
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