Poetry Tells Us

Poetry tells us how we feel,
how sunset makes us sad
that another day has slipped
into the shadow of our memory.

How demons slither unbidden
from foreboding black
and we wake in uncertain light
to wait for daylight's protection.

How a quiet hummingbird
hovering at a flower sparks
our inner desire to unravel
the fabric of the universe.

How uneasy morning news
of roadside bombs and armour
fails to protect us against
well-oiled global power politics.

How an old couple hobbled
slowly across the street and we,
patient with our destiny, watched
a robin search for worms.

How our neighbours dog
got loose and ran, and ran
freely sniffing every scent
and didn't see the quiet car.

How the sun flashed
from a soaring seagull
and small waves shushed
on receptive sand.

Poetry tells us how we feel
when the universe parades
to reveal Its smallest stars
and monstrous black holes.

Mark Clement - Sept. 19, 2007