Distinct Ballet
I've thrown my quill in quiet rage
sometimes, when mocked by empty page.
I read such vibrant poetry
in awe, and ask how can this be?
Fresh imagery splashed on the page
with wisdom of the ancient sage,
allusions from the well-read shelf
with rhymes to please the Bard himself.
Thus insecure, I feel defeat -
believing I cannot compete.
My words like sap from maple trees,
I strain as others write with ease.
Poetic thoughts freeze like a creek -
why does my muse play hide and seek?
Why grow downcast when I compare
their gifts to mine - what gain is there?
It's then I spot a butterfly
and see my story flitting by,
with wings unique and delicate,
in colors bold and elegant.
It draws the flower's nectar sweet
and knows that it need not compete,
for nature's bounty will abound -
there's plenty there to go around.
My double-helix DNA
will dance its own distinct ballet,
no other tale could I design,
no other poet could write mine.
So I retrieve neglected quill
and vow to write again! I will
share thoughts to fill another's cup
with odes to hope, not giving up.
If insecure, make this your creed:
to learn from poets - read, read, read.
Let thoughts ascend to soaring height
to hone your craft then write, write, write!
Wait patiently upon your muse
to send fresh words to speak your views,
for only YOU can speak what's there
within your heart, your poet heart
so rare.
Written 19 May 2022
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