When I write I use my every bit of skill
these fingers they have loved, cajoled
fed and bathed babies,... elders too
they were made for typing words anew;
When I write I use my eyes to see
the things that need to be reviewed
the pulse of a wing upon a blue heron
the shift of a leaf on a tree or a flower
When I write I hear the world around me
sometimes muffled by the noise and rush
sometimes quiet as a homely mute
sometimes I can hark, a pin drop....
When I write I can smell the coffee
from my favorite writing nook
by a distance I can inhale the roast
that shakes the beanie undernote
When I write I can taste the empathy
of a broken dream on celophane sheet
of a titan in his glory, onward victory!
or a dying victim after a sudden crash
When I write, I am the sharpened sword
When I write, I give myself up to the word
I can feel, hear, smell, see and devour
When I write, I feel the creative power
inside,
when I write....
July 24, 2018
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