Poetry lives
sometime way back
in the beginning
there came words
strung together like an orchestra
in verse — in conversation
harmonies both bitter and sweet
the Universe bore the stars
then you and I
the air we breathe
bound us to collide
a gift — endlessly unwrapping
I am — you are — we feel — alive
lest we forget
we haven’t stopped becoming yet
what do you gift a Universe
that has it all?
maybe it’s enough
to hear when it calls
return these words
from whence they came
give them the power to be
let them undo
knots stuck in throats
whisper what the soul provokes
even after all is said and done
there is still much left to say
is it such a crazy idea?
words that say a thousand things
a thousand different ways
we could count them all of our days
a pen rockets
the words I think
to take breaths
with spilled ink
breathe in — write out
repeat
