My morning ride

By Yinan Chen (www.goodfreephotos.com
(gallery, image))
 [see page for license], via Wikimedia Commons

Tears of sweat running down my cheek

Burning my eyes, with them closed

I am climbing along a mountain side

The hillside path twists and turns

Towards a vista of green valley, a river

Rippling below. I reach the top, 

Imagination giving me strength to push

Through. The ride down is bumpy and richly

Sun-dappled, the course brings me home

Safely. I wipe off the emotion and exertion

And open my eyes. 

I do not know what poetry is

I do not know what poetry is

I do not train my meters,

Measure my stanchions,

Mark out my rhymes.

I write freely

Elucidating my thoughts

Depicting my realities

Forming pictures from mere words

Connecting adverb and adjectives to their proper
nouns

Painting a world of feeling