Poetry, in fact, does not hide.
It seeks to be sought,
Waits to be found,
By readers and writers alike.

It can be found in rebirth-
In new beginnings
Or when old habits die hard
Or simply won't die at all

It can be uncovered in a crush-
In first love
On breezy flowery fields or calm sandy beaches
Against backdrops of sky's or seas or whathaveyou-
As well as in lost loves

It can be discovered by realizing
We've begun to believe our own lies
With focus and concentration
In trying to maintain
Daydreaming
And dreams themselves

In death and separation
Lives changed forever
Families torn apart
Or hopefully brought together

From the fun to the moon
And back one hundred times
Poetry does not hide
It awaits in everything.
Every. Little. Thing.
Painting the biggest and most beautiful pictures
The world may never know