The Poem

The words

jump off the page

and tickle me under my chin.

They climb up my unruly hair

past my ears

to the top of my head.

They open the skylights

and jump down

right into my mind.

Once inside

they play games

teasing my thoughts.

Some settle down for a nap

conserved

for later consideration.

Yet others continue their expedition

sliding right down my spine

to settle in my heart.

The words, silent now

are clearly visible

through the mist of my tears.

I can finally feel them –

 the corner of my soul

lights up with warmth.

And I know

quietly conceding:

the poem has spoken to me.

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