A poem is a cave.
Searching for the treasures,
That lies inside this cave.
Sometimes deep, sometimes shallow.
As you walk through the cave,
You notice a little puddle.
You see an image of yourself,
Look through the holes on top of the puddle,
You see animals of the sky.
The world and you.
A poem is a dream,
Do not control your dreams,
Let it flow through you.
Become one with the dream,
Be the dream.
Don’t think while flying through the blue sky,
Feel the wispy cold clouds drifting, Feel the powerful eagles fluttering,
Feel the butterflies dancing in the distance.
A poem is a wind, Each blow unique.
Different amount of power,
hitting the tree to make it swing.
Each swing a different feel.
One swing that pushed the living tree with hate,
A swing that tickled the a tree with affection,
One swing that drizzled on the tree with misery.
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