The Soul Of Poetry Poem by Suzanne Hayasaki

My poems come from love
Sometimes they cry.
Sometimes they sing.
Hopefully they uplift.

I gather thoughts like moss,
Lining my intellectual nest,
Adding trinkets and treasures,
Creating a chaos that pleases me.

But sometimes someone
Says or does something
That makes me want to offer
The kind of 'nothing'
Only I can compose.

I bring together incongruities
In unexpected harmonies,
Strung together with an underlying structure
That I believe nobody but me sees,
And I call it poetry.

It may be ignored.
It may go unseen.
It may be misinterpreted,
Purposely or inadvertently.

But it may arrive
At just the right time
To brighten a mood
Or drive away tears.

Or it may be read years later
By some stranger
Who still feels as if
It was written just for him.

Because the power of poetry
Is in its ability
To express the universal
In exquisitely intimate terms.