Initiation
The first sun inspires
words on the page.
A prompt asks
for a new poem.
I want it to feel
like the first kiss
stolen on a front porch.
I want it to beat
the heartbeat
of a young man
who learned to dream.
I want it to sing
to the stars at night
when I’m alone.
I want it to be with me
like my older cousin
when she sat by my side
and showed me
The Big Dipper
in an endless sky.
I want it to be
like nothing else
that came before
although I’ve traveled
many highways and roads.
I want it to take a deep breath
and celebrate the morning
when the world began.
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