Poetry

It’s the warmth of a summer sun
pressing through and pouring between the
gaps of illuminated tree leaves;
it’s the peaceful, calming noise of pouring rain that
trickles through gutter and pipe;
it is imagery conjured into something more real
than the spell of any grey-bearded sorcerer or
maiden, mother, and crone.

Attempts have been made to trap and categorize it;
free verse, rhyme, rhythm.
Something so primal, yet we
try to define and cage something
part of ourselves

Storytelling is written into the components of our DNA;
empathy is what sets us apart from the
teeming masses of inscrutable animals.
No matter the meter or method,
poetry is the thread that binds us.

by Erik Shinker

27 thoughts on “Poetry

  1. Pingback: Poetry β€” Perpetually Past Due – ArmedWithCoffee.com

  2. β€œ Attempts have been made to trap and categorize it;
    free verse, rhyme, rhythm.
    Something so primal, yet we
    try to define and cage something
    part of ourselves.”

    This verse speaks to me. We can not tame that which is wild….

    Liked by 1 person

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s