I love the rhyme of words and it’s
as if I’m hearing them for the first time,
The artistry of me trying to express
keeps my chest thumping; a heart
pumping to all extremities and lingers
in my fingers and toes (and the tip
of my nose). And if I choose to say
what that heart feels, it becomes as real
as life itself. Keeping me engaged,
rightfully enraged with being.
Seeing it any other way, I’d be a dead man.
Poetry makes me thrive; keeps me alive.
And for that, I find cause to celebrate.
© Walter J. Wojtanik – 2017