Poetry is a life-cherishing force
Poetry is a life-cherishing force. For poems are not words, after all, but fires for the cold, ropes let down to the lost, something as necessary as bread in the pockets of the hungry.”
- Mary Oliver
Poetry is my flesh, blood, body, mind and soul,
My heart and its beat; skin-bone unifying whole;
In her I talk, walk, work, rest and leisurely lie;
Without her, like fish without water, I might die...!
Do I pick my tooth-brush at rising, I don't know,
My pen, as though saving sword, ever strength does show;
Feeling hungry or full, somnolent or awake,
Pulsation of poetry, like waves, in me, break...!
As impulses pull and push to-and-fro actions,
Poetry pervades reason-cum-instinct fractions;
Self-enslaving inclinations soon washed away,
Poetry, for inner warmth of freedom paves way...!
Erasing evils with poetry might be hard,
Like razing down hardest bushes of jungle-yard;
Don't yet, drops of disinfectants do some cleansing,
When rooms go messy and pathogens do fencing...?
Poetry gives strength to my weakening muscles,
My aching knee readies to fight moral-tussles;
Each step I take is an inspiring upheaval,
Toward freeing humankind from every evil...!
21 November 2022
Poetry is a life-cherishing force Contest Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Sotto Poet
Copyright © Christuraj Alex | Year Posted 2022
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.
to post a comment