Clear and Complex
Its not premeditated
It can be accumulated
But not made up of air
Sometime it comes when I’m not even aware
It may be an image, a feeling, or an event
That I must put on paper and then accent
It’s a spirit within me begging to come out
It’s a seed I plant ready to sprout
Its written on any small piece of paper I may encounter
There resting in a pile on the counter
Then rearranged and transferred to my screen
It’s a state of mind, a place where I may dream
Writing for me is a vital part of my everyday
Poetry is my vision, utilized in how I look, see and play
Won’t you come with me on a lyric journey of life
Where the rivers flow and the drums beat with the fife
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