Fish are meant to swim.

The cover calligraphy for Lin Xi's "Me"

If one says: "Fish are meant to swim"
Why is it poetry?
Poetry has always been the least accessible; seemingly doing nothing, yet accomplishing much.
Refined words hide what one wants to say within the poetry; then, the reader imagines, speculates, and imagines again. The feelings that linger in the heart, whether given by the author or born from the reader, are no longer the key.

"Fish are meant to swim" may seem like a self-evident truth akin to "A mother is a woman" at first glance. But when "meant," "are," and "to" are put together, we can ask:
If we say, "Fish are to swim," does it lack "meant"?
If we say, "Fish meant to swim," perhaps it's missing "are."
If we say, "Fish are meant swimming," without "to," we'd have to add "of" to make it grammatically correct.

Questions never have answers, especially when you encounter a line of poetry that inexplicably stays with you for a long time.
The subtlety of words reveals their power. The freedom of poetry allows for an interaction that seems distant yet is profoundly intimate.

Perhaps it's time, here today, to read a new poem and let everything settle.