Is This Poetry

After all these years, is this poetry? Words written down on paper, sketched with ink and pen, inching along a blank page, exerting feeling and emotion, sadness, laughter, tears and even melancholia. Prose and poetry cannot be regulated by rules and guidelines and grammar. The mind drifts in inner contemplation circumspect with life lessons. The heart beats with anticipation cognizant of living life well. The spirit wisps in the breeze clutching, holding onto the wind. The soul languishes in search of meaning and purpose of futures yet to be of pasts now lost and recoverable. Is this poetry? Only the reader knows.