What is Poetry?

Sometimes I wonder,

What is poetry?

Is it the chirping birds

That wake me up every morning?

Is it the sound of the vegetable vendor

Who sings his sales calls?

The running water from my bathroom tap –

Is it poetry?

What is poetry? I reflect.

Is it the buzz of that lonely mosquito

Wooing me for its company?

Is it the hurrying spider

Forging its web on my window pane?

Or the dew droplets on the spiderweb

Glistening in the twilight Sun?

Is it the sound of conch from my neighbourhood

That marks the dawn of the dusk?

Is it the click of the switch

That lights up my room?

The Prussian blue night-sky

Wearing the shawl of stars –

Or the smell of jasmine

That enchants my courtyard –

Is it poetry?

Is it the breeze

That soothes my tired nerves?

Is it the motion of the ceiling fan

That hangs over my head?

The blinking of my eyes

Before sleep takes over –

Is it poetry?

Or is it the dream

That takes me to a forlorn land?

Sometimes I ponder,

What is poetry?

Sometimes I wonder,

What is poetry?