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.
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