Poetry is a voice I did not know I had until I spoke. It is eyes I did not know I could open until I did. Poetry filters the bleakness of existence with flashes of life.

Poetry is a way of living.

Poetry is the child of philosophy and aesthetic. Poetry is an alchemical axiom: One in the Universe; the Universe in One. I’ve witnessed common experiences — such as getting a haircut from a barber — become exquisite gestures of culture, loyalty and pride. Poetry exposes the craftsmanship of the everyday.

This post was written in response to April’s Writing Prompt. Continue reading on Patreon or Medium.