A good poem will surprise you,
like a jagged piece of rose quartz
shining up from the crushed rock
scattered along the pathway,
waiting to be picked up,
dusted off, tucked into a pocket
until you find a good place for it;
or like a girl much too beautiful
to give you the time of day
who smiles at you anyway,
which starts a conversation
that leads to a connection
that becomes love, makes
the rest of your life more amazing
than it would have been,
gives you the sparkle for your poems.
People who do not appreciate surprises
may have a poor opinion of poetry,
may never read or write a love song,
may never pick up a shiny stone;
and their lives may be lacking because of this.
C. T. Holte grew up playing along creeks and in cornfields; went to lots of school; and has had gigs as teacher, editor, and less wordy things. His poetry has appeared in Words, Pensive, Soul-Lit, Minnow, and elsewhere, and has been hung from trees to celebrate the Rio Grande Bosque.
