To Poetry

You came from I don't even remember where,
and made me fall for reasons
I can't recall, either.

But you were there
when my heart sang and leapt with joy;
you turned the loneliest nights into music
of which the lyrics I may not memorize,
but the tune
- oh, those tunes -
l will never forget
how they taste on my tongue.

You were there in the corner
where I would curl up and
hide my tears from the world's spying eyes,
and you would turn those tears
into beautiful webs that trapped the stars -
and you taught me how to
carefully harvest those stars
and put them in my secret treasure chest,
so that I could place them on my bedroom ceiling
when the night
felt so cruel.

And you were there
when I drew my lines on the sand
and stepped a little too much to the left,
got carried away
by the waves of dreams
and forgotten wishes.

I never knew, though, that you
love jumping rope to rope
to land on a soda can
with a loud bang;
that you like standing in the spotlight,
showing off your ability to shape
metal boxes into curvy guitars,
and how your lips form a wide smile
like a little kid's
when every eye stares in amazement
and every pair of hands claps
at your magic tricks;
that you borrow the king's crown and
the queen's clothes and
make them your own.

It turns out
that you also love telling secrets
and being held
close
like somebody's favorite blanket.

I thought I loved you, but
that wasn't true,
for how can you love something
that you don't know?
And there are things about you
I never knew,
but
there are also quite a few
that I'm beginning to,
like the many sets of your face paints
and the sound of your
thunder rumbling
while I stretch out my arms
to your wide, white horizon.

It doesn't matter what I might find there;
I'll keep telling you my secrets
and I'll hold you close
like my sweet old blanket.