How to know if you're a poet? You love words. More than a prose writer. To writers, words are the tools of the trade, functionary, they advance and structure and shape plot and ideas and characters. They mould and make.
But to a poet, they are everything. As beautiful as flowers, ever-enchanting, 'they are doves falling out of the ceiling... the sun, its passionate face.' They are the blueprint of the world. Something we have power over, but which have more power over us.
Words - Anne Sexton
Be careful of words,
even the miraculous ones.
For the miraculous we do our best,
sometimes they swarm like insects
and leave not a sting but a kiss.
They can be as good as fingers.
They can be as trusty as the rock
you stick your bottom on.
But they can be both daisies and bruises.
Yet I am in love with words.
They are doves falling out of the ceiling.
They are six holy oranges sitting in my lap.
They are the trees, the legs of summer,
and the sun, its passionate face.
Yet often they fail me.
I have so much I want to say,
so many stories, images, proverbs, etc.
But the words aren't good enough,
the wrong ones kiss me.
Sometimes I fly like an eagle
but with the wings of a wren.
But I try to take care
and be gentle to them.
Words and eggs must be handled with care.
Once broken they are impossible
things to repair.