Sometimes it’s not in the reading
But the in the hearing and seeing
That we find the beauty of poetry
Sometimes we forget their power
The world of words loses its’ way
Loses its’ sway to say what it must say
But when a new voice is given
The power resurfaces
When we hear the subtle tremors
The violent vibrations
The elevation of poetry is remembered
Like a long lost love
Finding old passions re-inflamed
The poetry is restored to its’ golden glory again