Where Do Poems Hide? (After “Valentine for Ernest Mann”, by Naomi Shihab Nye)
Poems hide in the clouds, behind the sun and moon, concealed under the darkness of night, drowned out by the sounds of animals. Poems lurk in the back of the drawer, the forgotten toy or piece of clothing, waiting for you to find them.
Poems take shelter on your nightstand and bug you till you fall asleep. They jump into your hands and never want to leave. Poems hide in my soul, concealed in darkness and shadow. Poems hide in corners of old dusty houses with breaking shingles
Poems wait behind the water bottle that is blocking your view. Poems hide deep in the earth's core, inside the wood of your desk, or in plain sight just tangled up with books.
Poems hide in long forests with sky-high pine trees and rainfall like stardust. Poems hide right in you but your life is so crammed that they hide in darkness. Or they might hide in your pet.
Poems hide like frightened rabbits, concealed in a box of angst, boredom, and frustration. Hidden by those folks who have no time for what they think of as child's play. Want to find one? Just dig down and use your inner creativity.
Poems hide in dark spaces like your closet– maybe inside you.
