For the weavers of verses

(A World Poetry Day special)

A poem begins as a lump in the throat,
Wandering lonely as a cloud
Wrapped in the blanket of pain
Missing a loved one, feelings of homesickness,

The heart becomes a poem aching to be read
Swallowing worms in glasses of water
You throw up words
Until everyone stares at your piece in drunken silence

Poetry is to a thousand hearts,
A thousand different things
It can chase fear
And steady the head to be held high

The words that come out from the depth of your truth;
Can break your world into fragments
Or lead you into the heaven of freedom

Poetry is more than punchlines, imagery,
Metaphors, or rhymes,
It is more than diction
Stanzas or lines

With poetry, you can lead your mind
Towards freedom
Days when it wanders and lost its way
Or drown in the problems of the world

Poetry is truth
And today, those who wield its sword
Celebrate its mark on their lives