Letting the poetry flow

Poetry has probably made many people happy since the beginnings of time wither they wrote it or if they read it. But I bet the number of people who truly have a passion for it is much smaller in comparison. I am one of the lesser number. When I sit down to write a poem a sense of calm comes over me but there is also an underlying sense of urgency because I can’t wait to share it with the world. I write to let out anger and I write to express my love for simple things. I have yet to write a poem about how much I love climbing into a pick-up truck that smells like diesel fuel or watching the rolling hills of my home move by during a mid-afternoon drive not because I don’t love them but because I can not find words good enough to get my point across. I am no Elizabeth Barrett Browning or Homer but I do feel a connection with them because they saw what see . They saw words coming together in a way that no one else has seen and I love being the one to unveil them to the world.
When I write a piece of good poetry my pride can not be measured by any human-made devise because it is simply so much bigger than that. I want to teach others to feel the way I feel about it because it is a high so much greater than any street drug.