Why does poetry matter?
These book will rot or burn or scatter
The ink will fade or bleed away
Where once tenderly pressed in light of day
The land of the living
Begs a meaning
Stalkers poach and dig for feeling
Staggering under weights of ceilings
Darkened days and darker nights
Everyone starved for touch and light
What is the revelation
That that can be found in this desolation
Words transformed into worlds
Sentences and stanzas into pearls
A glimmer for a moment
A consultation ever potent
I have seen darkness flee
And the fire of poetry
Warmth of hope, being understood
A path out of the wood
