Hidden meanings…

How do you write poems about happiness?
Elation?
Hope or optimism?
Does it take experience?
Practice or a divine intervention?
Do these poems come from the soul, the mind, or the heart?
Where do they generate, germinate, and cultivate?
How are they harvested from the deep and fertile soul of emotions and virtue?
What do these poems taste like?
What do they smell like?
What do they look like?
Maybe poems are like rose that sprout from the concrete… despite the cold, gray stone that surround them, they still blossom with beauty and sweetness.
Can poems grow and survive in the ghetto?
Or are they only from lands filled with bounty and abundance?
Maybe they can come from both?
Wherever they come from, or however they get here, they all serve the same purpose…
To enlighten, inspire, reflect, ponder, or be just whatever you want them to be…
So, where do you think poems come from?