Writing Poetry

Soul’s innate creative urge, causes in heart, an upsurge, creating in space, a rhythm, throbbing in mind-body prism. Entwined with the universe, our mind then conjures a verse, which ego claims as its own, although seeds are by soul sown. Attuned to love’s vibration, unique is each creation, penning patterns on paper, the way we like to caper. The music’s not our handwork, so we best wipe off our smirk, but nevertheless since we’re here, we let the fragrance draw near. Just like petals in full bloom, soul’s vibrance too likes to zoom, which works for poets like us, joyous aboard God’s bliss bus.