Slamming

At first it seems absurd

Holding up score cards for poetry

Having been judged before for this and so much else

I enjoyed flipping numbers and holding them up

More than receiving the verdict of my peers

It’s subjective of course

But so much is in life

We sift and compare everything

Constantly saying this is like that

This is better than that

My favorite

On a scale of one to ten

Picking winners

When really, it’s ridiculous

Like saying that’s my favorite snowflake

Or that drop of water is better than another

Or that kiss was the sweetest

Who cares?

Can’t we just enjoy them all

No ratings or rankings to glorify some and denigrate others

It’s all good

There’s no need to stratify beauty into increments

Or rank each blade of grass in endless fields

Clouds don’t need our approbation to skydance

Each moment of wonder is its own delight

So if I tell you that your eyes are bright with starshine

Be happy enough with that celestial judgment

Without seeking comparison to other constellations I’ve orbited

David Trudel   © 2013

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