I love poetry because even a devastated spirit can be given wings again,
sometimes a dove flying through the peaceful forest, with the gentle
azure of a stream overflowing, bubbling serenely
over divinely placed rocks.
And then there are times poetry gives us the wings of eagles
and hawks, with a 10 ft. wingspan, talons extended
screaming, in the bird of prey language,
ready to tear off the head of
every demon of despair.
Yes, I love poetry,
isn’t it amazing?
Poetry and Image © Copyright 2017, ancient skies