I breathe therefore I am

if i were the poetry’s soul
i’d whisper the first breath of each word
a life of every written verse

to feel the suturing edges – that of a sword

toils it does to stir the world
this nameless weapon of a word

mighty as it were

like the cannons of the ancient world

i’d be the flame and living torch

the lumen at the end of a pen

to let every word break through walls
and write the book of this ailing universe
and i’m the poetry’s soul
I breathe therefore i am