The Poetry Marathon

I cannot fathom the power that lives within each of us.
No matter how matted, disheveled, or broken we appear on the outside.
The powers of a single touch alone is baffling.
We can tear at each other so viciously,
Beating the very will to live from the soul of another,
But we can also reach out to them,
And in the moments they are falling into their deepest, fiery pits of hell, we can bring them out, or at least halt their descent.
An embrace can banish loneliness,
And a word can prompt love.
So why do we still insist on lashing out and spreading agony and sorrow?
When we can bring such light to the darkest times of others,
Why do we decide to tear down their hopes and aspirations instead?
We all have within us the potential to save lives. Why don’t we do it?
When you feel that searing anger deep within your chest, ready to explode and tear at someone,
Take a minute to look up at the sky above you.
Day or night, you will see a glow, a shine, a light.
Something is always up there to guide you forward into brightness and warmth.
And you can be that for another, if you only decide to put that shining energy within you to use.
Share your love and light. There’s always someone out there who could use it.

Words simply spoken have never done my feelings justice.
My tongue trips over simple sounds that should easily soar from my lips.
And when they finally come tumbling out into the open air,
They seem flat in comparison to what was my original intention.
The flow of ink from a pen,
Dancing across the page in messy but heartfelt words,
And expanding to thoughts and feelings that I never even knew were thick inside me,
Creating bridges of emotion and understanding between me and any soul who wishes to read.
That is true communication.
I’m glad that I’ve finally found my voice.

Puzzle pieces so small, singular in composition and form, but ready to grow forth.
From these, creations are endless.
Worlds come, not from great bursts of sudden creation, but alterations of minute importance, piled atop each other for infinity.

Earth, solidity upon which everything from metropolises to grass can grow.
Air, that gasping layer of ever-shifting matter so ever-present and gentle as it fills your lungs, but also explosive enough to shatter the roof above your head, or tear a home from its foundation.
Fire, warmth that beats back the frozen emptiness which grows within your bones, and a cleanser of evil, painful memories, and that which once grew and lit the land of the living with its presence, but now must be interred among its native soil.
Water, cool, refreshing, and life-giving when pure and true, but all too ready to absorb and carry along the filth and scree of our creations and mistakes.

This world on which we live was already built for us when we got here.
There are wonders of natural beauty in every direction or eyes can see, and beneath our feet, waiting inches from our fingertips,
If only we would decide to explore this erratic, invaluable, complicated, undiscovered, unending, tactile, and beautiful world on which we live.