Poetry is the language of the Soul, it is Soul talk.
Always has existed, though sometimes hidden.
At various times written into law, or spoken by the Shaman; as well, as the speech of the mad. It lays within the lyrics of songs, drums out its message in Wrap, sits quietly in the back of our minds.
It states a claim in some religious verse, pervades parts of the Proverbs, Psalms as Confucius or Qur'an. Rarely it can be seen in advertising or a particular line of a show.
Soul talk takes so many forms, it is sculpted into creations old and new, crafted as part of a technological wonder.
Scientists watch Soul talk when they observe a particle in Quantum ecstasy, or notice the precise astronomical dance of the heavens.
Soul talk flows its' way through cyberspace and marks a trail through the life of love. It is seen in the manic cluster of color, while making itself known as sunlight on any given day.
Demonstrates its' endless forms in dreams of human or animal, or in the breath of a lion seconds from it's prey.
It shows a side in the sordid lives’ of homeless and disabled, while singing sighs within the thighs of the wealthy and richly able.
Poetry is a view from the window of infinity, a vision of what one day might be, or already has come true. Sometimes poetry is slurred by a unknown drunk,
or graced upon a baby’s essence, or wrapped inside a sarcastic gesture.
Poetry is immortality looking into our reality, or a little bird on a twig singing because it can. Soul talk is glimpsed in a caring touch, or in the spirit of logic or chaos. Or is spied between the eye’s of husbands and wives, in a whimsical passing through the hall.
Poetry is the language of the soul, it is Soul talk…think of this next time you kiss a loved one,
or a frog.