Maybe It's a Poem

About how we use words

And don’t realize how words

Grow/ground around us

Nurtured just as readily in trauma

as in love

Maybe it’s a poem about how folk don’t care

about the words they use

Or even think about the words

the concepts, the pain, they invoke

in meetings

Random mentions of things

that mean nothing to them

But oh so much to us

 

Maybe it is verses about being inspired

By the buds on the tree

The words on the page you are reading

The sun in your face

Where if you look too quickly without thought

halos appear

Round orbits of defined space

in a world of boundaries

Of limits

Of words

that hurt

That you don’t even realize when you speak

 

Maybe it’s a poem

You speak to yourself

A mantra to try to stay well

when folk throw words at you

That bury deep

 

(This week I decided to poem my blog post because it is poetry month and the thing I wanted to write about this week, folk using words that are hurtful to others and not realizing it, was too much to ask of myself to write in paragraph form this week. Be well everyone, and be kind to each other).