Not all poems are conceived in light
Some of them are buried in darkness
Surrounded by dirt and soil
gritted teeth
and clenched fists.
Sometimes the lyric is a resurrection of rage
a fire that is only quenched through spilled ink
on blank pages.
Sometimes poems are tears
because not all compositions are conceived
in well-lit rooms
some poems are seeds that only grow in darkness
or did you not know that is how seeds grow?
Hidden, covered and planted in the dirt
the sun coming in from someplace outside of itself
water pouring in from someplace outside of itself.
Some sonnets are crushed grapes
crumpled and left for dead
or did you not know that is how wine is made?
Something fermenting
festered and developing into something worse.
Some poems are nearly dead
before they reach the light.
Or did you not know that is how Messiah rose?
from the grave
from the pit
from the earth.
When you feel that you cannot write
that your life is a laughing contradiction
thrown back into your face
a joke everyone gets but you
when your hands tremble with uncertainty
too weak to hold the pen
too fragile to unvirgin the page
Write anyway.
Because not all poems are conceived in light
some of them, the best of them
are buried in darkness
and covered in dirt.
until suddenly, like a sprouting seed
a poem is born.
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