How Does A Poem Begin?

How does a poem begin?

Does it come from the stare of fixed eyes or the adventures of the traveler world-wide?

Is it a quiet emotion molding into words or birthed from the song of a thousand birds?

Does it form in the adrenaline rush of a passing train or cleansing fall of a cold rain?

Is it grown like the nervous pit in a stomach or sorrow of a struggle?

How does a poem begin?

Does it rise like lavender clouds, or sink like roots into soil?

Is it penned like an artist’s whimsical painting or typed like a precisely planned novel?

Does it flow in the warmth of a fire or chill of a goose-bump breeze?

Is it just one idea, or is it the union of many?

The nature of a poem can not be contained, whether hurricane wind or gentle rain.

How it begins remains unseen, like a rush of emotion or breeze,

no matter how, begin a poem, if you please.


One thought on “How Does A Poem Begin?

  1. My poem began when God placed you in my arms 20 years ago. He’s been writing it beautifully ever since.


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