Poetry, Prose, & Peonies

what is a poem?
images stitched over abstract thoughts?
is a poem a space for rhyme?
are poems determined by their
succinct rhythmic tune?
or is a poem a feeling?

I am poetry
walking with words in my veins
flowing, pulsing
giving me life enough
to be in the world

I gaze at metaphors perfectly
balanced on the head
of a pin
I hear the sounds of simile
comparing my love to the ocean
I smell the stench of cliché
buried beneath rosy words
I taste the sweet and sour
of the raisin dried in the sun

I touch the pedestal of greatness
by grazing my fingers
along the petals of a flower
the flower growing through
cracks
on the sidewalk

I am poetry
the rainbow of life
glazing across the earth
like a kaleidoscope
bending light and colour
twisting and harnessing
the beauty of ocher
the brightness of a golden sun
bringing depth
to moss –

I am poetry
because the colours are part
of me
the lavender streaks in the sky
fluttering beyond amber clouds
over the marmalade coated streets
beyond the oceanscape
set ablaze
with light

everything the light touches
including my soft skin
the skin that hosts a body
a body that wields a brain
a brain that yields to beauty
a beauty flowing through the mundane

I am poetry
because poetry is life
I am a part of nature
one of the streaks pouring
out of the
kaleidoscope
one of the granules
of moss –

I am poetry
because poetry is about you
poetry is about me
a flowery expression
of reality
buried so deep beneath metaphor
that only those who share your eyes
can see

Header image: original photograph