Why Be a Poet

Someone asks if my literary work is fiction or reality Engaging and inspiring those to read with affection Expressing my thoughts and feelings through poetry Weaving my spiritual, cultural, or historical reflections Acceptance of God’s gift to write in free verse or rhyme To apply humor and sadness or simply common folklore I hope that reading my poetry never wastes anyone’s time As I attempt to integrate images, creativity, and metaphors A cluster of thoughts and ideas akin to an array of butterflies Fluttering in my head like a multitude of elucidative accounts A swollen helium-filled balloon, and at its end is a string tied Trees shed and bid farewell to leaves cascading to the ground Poets bring to life the mind’s imagination for what it is worth Travailing and pushing the words out; it’s how we express Just as an expected female, in due season, brings forth a birth A beautiful way to connect; we, poets, unashamedly confess We are poets because we love leaving an indelible ink stain On plain parchment that influenced us in every walk of life Leaving an everlasting mark of our poetic pleasure or pain Like footprints on the beach or a scar from a serrated knife