Poetry is the grammar
of subliminally passed truths
those things that I hid from you
find there way to you
for poetry is the grammar of the truth.
the poet doesn't write
nearly as much as he sees
and he hears the compositions
that he sees, that he spies,
that his mind cannot lose
the tiger tail of.
the great minds speak of
changes inside,
looking deeply
such that you could, maybe, change your life
by doing that
by going inside.
and the ladder to the inside
is no common ladder
it does not drop in lines
it does not have the next bar
where you can find
instead
you have to have poetry
it is that grammar of truth
that song in which one must come to trust
that song that carries you
that lifts through you
and turns your very heart
your very acts
into song, thus, itself, becoming fact.
silent song --
and your bones
and your breath
and your flesh
and your eyes
are both here
and gone
to the cosmic rhythm
to that grammar of poetry
which is to say the freedom
of logic and existence
and truth and being
to any form shape or rhythm
to that truth
that is poetry
to those bones
to those thinking bends
to the feet of the mightiest throne
and the longest robe
of the most lovely queen
that G-d himself
can barely believe
to that wind
to the vaults of the great unknown
in mathematics
in language
in all structures born
of new logics and more
oh bard
oh bards
who sing from their very
mysterious beings
to poets
of all kinds
and to all of philosophy's children
but today
above all
let us praise Poetry,
and only Poetry
and let her rise in us.
