Poets' Wings

“Poets are neither born nor made, but chosen.” 
--R.N. Taylor

**

Expressed in line-breaks, mighty minds of academic peaks.
Verbose, their thoughts, enjambed so deftly, heaving bold obliques,
yet seldom find we spirit, heart in words that strive to be
our standard.  Poets need no guidance.  We are poetry…

Not worshippers of titles, groomed through universities;
not drunk in ego, not uncertain, trapped in falsities,
not guardians or keepers of some literary right
that stems from muddy sources — no! The Muse, our guiding light.

Our words ascend a lesser fate of resting pressed and frozen,
as poets, neither born nor made, have been divinely chosen.
The Ivy League of poetry, too dense in worldly wear
to truly soar on poets’ wings — not feathered flesh, but air!