Mystery

Poetry is the season of different climates. Meanings are unique to their owner. While storms may rage in the metaphors of words for some, for others, the verses are calm as a millpond. Once the poet has written it, it no longer belongs to them. They cannot—and should not—say, “These are my feelings.” Because the emotion in a poem is universal. The poem belongs to whoever interprets it in their own way. Poetry is, in a sense, like looking at life through a telescope. It is setting free, in just a few lines, the declarations that we could not express even if we wrote pages about them…