Poetry is the synthesis of hyacinths...

Poetry is the synthesis of hyacinths and biscuits.

Poetry is the journal of a sea animal living on land, wanting to fly in the air.

Poetry is an echo, asking a shadow to dance.

Poetry is a packsack of invisible keepsakes.

Poetry is the opening and closing of a door, leaving those who look through to guess about what is seen during a moment.

Poetry is a phantom script telling how rainbows are made and why they go away.

Poetry is the sliver of the moon lost in the belly of a golden frog.

Poetry is a search for syllables to shoot at the barriers of the unknown and the unknowable.