``` Poetry's Voice Poem by Mari Martin

It dances across the mind
like wind upon the earth.
At times a butterfly whisper,
stained glass wings across the sky.
At times a gale,
surging the waters of life
against uncertain shores.

It is alive.
Yet, spoken from death.
Silent cries of anguish
dance with Love's embrace.
At times a waltz,
flowing, swirling,
following it's given cadence.
At times a tango,
rhythm born of passion.
At times it's meaning hidden.
Yet, one will understand.

Within shrouds of silken emotion
does it find it's own language
first heard, foreign, but, not.
At times it's voice a drum,
varied are it's sounds.
At times it's voice a symphony
blending instruments into magic.

If we listen with the heart first
it will speak.
If we listen only with our mind
poetry's voice will be silent
forever remaining
a mystery.