Where's the Poetry?

Where’s the poetry?


Where’s the poetry?
It was just here a few days ago
spilling from my pen.
I was writing about water
and our journey toward wisdom.
and like a river, the words flowed freely.
Then, I watched the news.
Now I can’t find the poetry.

Things happened in a city across the world,
a place I’d never been but I had things to say.
I tried writing about the fear, the terror,
the cowardice of men who take lives with them
on their way to the hereafter they were promised.
I tried writing about the frustration I felt
when grown children fight each other
for control of the proverbial sandbox we call Earth.

But as I wrote, a funny thing happened.
The ink clogged up and my words ran dry.
I was not put on this earth to add to its sorrow.
Thoughts of angry men strangle my muse
and muses can be fickle if forced.
So, I made a deal and she drove a hard bargain.
She’d return the poetry on one condition,

that I use my words to inspire
and share wisdom to help us become whole again.
There’s already far too much despair in this world
for me to add one more drop, one more word.
I fear it will break the dam
and we all will drown in sadness.
So I agreed with her terms.

It was then I saw
the wispy tendrils of light
stretching from somber clouds.
The sunrays bathed a little patch of lake.
I saw the reflections of tiny ripples and I knew,
with a little faith in the power of words,
poetry can still make us whole.

SWPoet