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Where is Poetry?

by Janet Martin © 2009

From whence comes inspiration?
And where is poetry?
This, the serious question
One day was asked of me
And without hesitation
I said, 'from God, of course'
But now in contemplation
I could have said much more
For as I slowly waken
To greet another day
Before my eyes are open
I'm privileged to pray
To the great Creator
Of Heaven and of earth
This Holy Mediator
Gives each new day birth
Ah surely, surely this must be
A treasured bit of poetry

Then from my bed I hasten
To view dawns tender kiss
Where lawns and gardens glisten
In this solitary bliss
But here and there a feathered friend
Cannot contain its praises
As pinks and golds and purples blend
His heavenly glory blazes
Golden warmth melts shadow-lands
And deeper blues surrender
To the touch of Heavens hand
And daylights kiss so tender
Faintly in the morns dawning
A new-born baby cries
And mother smiles and softly sings
Her gentle lullabies
Ah surely, surely this must be
A treasured bit of poetry

The brilliant blossoms open wide
And soundlessly unfold
A seed, so tiny brown and dried
Is now a lily gold
And everywhere I turn to see
Gods magnificence
Ah, there is glorious poetry
In His omnipotence
As He opens up His hand
And showers blessing down
I simply cannot comprehend
The priceless wealth I own
As childrens laughter, loving arms
Wrap their warmth around me
A thousand, thousand wondrous charms
Softly here surround me
Ah surely, surely you agree
Everywhere is poetry

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