What Poetry Means To Me

WHAT POETRY MEANS TO ME

I pretend to forget,
As to who was she.
Long back who asked,
What poetry means to me?

I kept mum,
For, random thoughts
Needed to come.
For, those could not be generated
Nor machined or fabricated.

Silence was only expression
I know though, that’s not the fashion
To let others know.
But, the words in this bird’s brain
Somehow could not be
Forced to flow.
(Let alone Glow).

I held a notion but was unable to see
Until some soul collided with me
The impact, by God, was so profound
That a new-look, I suddenly found.

Like a blind man post a long surgery,
When the cotton wool of eye-care goes.
For the first time the surgeon shows
And he
Begins to see
That’s what ma’am
Poetry
Means to
Me.

(The surgeon in this case happens to be
An absolutely amazing,
…………………Lady).

- Glow Worm -

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