Yet Poetry
Yet poetry is after all just lines
Of words, yes even when the words are sung
By angel voices in a choir that shines.
The words are words when coming from the tongue
Of Gabriel or Abaddon, not more
[Gabriel and Abaddon]
Than words. If Shakespeare sang them, they would be
Just words again, or Homer even, soar
They might but words are words. We all agree
In thoughtful unison, the color of
A harmony, that words are only words
Despite all other facts. If words are love
From warmest throats of winging, singing birds,
Still words, no matter how they move, are yet
Mere words, though sung by Satan in regret.
~ Phillip Whidden