My Journey In Writing

If legs were my hands I would have past vast heaven I would have crossed lanes And swum countless seas And walked the flight of a raven How I wished they were. My journey in writing Are the glory of my hands That spy through and through The lane has been my memory Poke by my very thought. My journey of lighting The dark life's lands To every lie...making true. I have etched a poetry story. For a change sought. Far and wide Landmarks on the isles of life For time and tide Here and afterlife.