A poem is like fresh bread, words turned upside down, the world made new

Our friend Karen from Tennessee sent this the other day. She found it in a children's magazine that one of her kids gets, Ladybug, and this poem is in the February 2012 issue. She says the poem is a bit too long, so she sent two portions. It never occurred to me until I read this: maybe poems themselves are sacraments.

Enjoy your day...

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This is a poem that heals fish
by Jean-Pierre Simeon

—Mommy, my fish is going to die!
Come quickly! Leon is going to die of boredom!

Arthur’s mommy looks at him.
She closes her eyes,
she opens her eyes…

Then she smiles:
— Hurry, give him a poem!
and she leaves for her tuba lesson.

A poem!? But what
is a poem?
….

A poem
is when you have the sky in your mouth.
It is hot like fresh bread,
when you eat it,
a little is always left over.

A poem
is when you hear
the heartbeat of a stone,
when words beat their wings.
It is a song sung in a cage.

A poem is words turned upside down
and suddenly!
The world is new.