THE POET

She saw it everywhere, in everything, the rhyme, the rhythm
And she pulled it from the air and made it clear
Like the bones and stones she found, shaped into a point and purpose
And her pen the arrow, her hand the bow

She said, make sure you're looking where you step. You've a tendency not to notice
There's an arrowhead underneath each of our noses
If we get out of our own head and look around

We just might see the trees like she did. Her father's heart and might in the forest
And they spoke to her like a daughter, so she planted more

Chorus

The world's meant for our eyes
And our eyes are meant for wonder
To see it in all, the rhyme, the rhythm
Ready to write are we, the poet

Chorus