I like a poem when I’m too tired
For articles and books complex and deep
Or my brain is simply over-wired.
When with furrowed brow thought is required
To consider, reflect, connections leap
Across the page; neurons must fire.
A poem is a form somewhat higher,
Beyond consciousness where meaning seeps
Like rock filtered waters, minds inspired.
No more conjugations, worries, lies
A poem can cause a person to weep
Or smile, for it defies
Logic. A poet needs imagery, pace, relies
On rhythm, not wordiness but somehow meets
The heart and all its needy cries.
A poem asks the question why
In patterned phrases and senses greets
I like a poem when I am tired
Words seduced, distilled to treasure and keep.