Committment

Thanks to the poets who love my words Meaning in their eggs fly like birds The snake may suckle slurping in delight But give them time to be feathered by light We brotherhood carvers in the tongue Let your muse break joy this time to live among The unslithered past of printed page Lying against the shell of rage. I sing truth, and truth is my balm in the night Long after honor has winged her flight Away from the rough cliffs of barren minds We poet will be the pole star of all true sign.