Poetry
It is the caress of language across the tongue
The sliding of syllables past lips
The friction between heart and logic
It is the grey cells sparking with imagination
And the soul's expression of being
It is the statement of present
And culmination of past
It is formation of merged concepts
And the explanation of opposites
It is written, spoken, danced and sung
It is enveloped in the silence
Heard or dismissed
It is a lamp in the darkness
And darkness in the light
It is touch, sight, sound and smell
And the wholeness of absence
It is individual to everyone
And to everyone inclusive
It is in opposites
And in sameness
It is beyond what is seen
Longed for by the eyes
And in being seen
Released by ambition
It is the unchained
And the bound
It is the unknown
And it is the creation
It is to each their own
Possessed by no one
It is unto itself
And settles whither it pleases
It is the whisper in the ear of the soul
The flame in the heart
The question in the mind
The ache of the body
It is you
And it is I
We are poetry
