The Writer

 

Creativity, the priority,

Love flowing freely

Into each deep crevice

Of the heart

Causing senses to

Come alive.

 

As writers live

And leave their

Indelible but

Sensible mark

On society,

Who are honored

By orchestras and

Multitudes of

Receivers, hearers

Of their creative

Flow through

A life time now

And continues to

Grow.

 

Chasing the wind

That’s what it seems

Like with this pen,

Where do I begin

Is the opening

Question to an endless

Tape recorder of a

Conversation

 

The wrestle with

Words and adverbs

To attach sentences

And paragraphs and

Signed autographs

On your hat worn

So delicately and

Selectively, you

Pride yourself on

Looking most

Seniority above

Your surroundings

 

Its grounding

And grinding

It out, its pacing in

Circles over word choices

And principle selections to

Make your art work over

And over again

 

It’s the absorption

And collection of

Ancient writing,

Passed down from

Generation to generation

And depravation

Of colors and spirits of

Life that guide every writer

 

The simple desire to

Observe and capture

Moments and fragments of

Humanity, whether pain

Or felicity, handled

Lightly upon your pen

We write the characters

Born from within.

 

As, even now

I sit with this pen

In hand, my plans

Become so

High and lofty,

My heart, a softy,

Tender and

Selective, my behavior

Without pretense or

False commas and

Unstructured letters

And clauses

 

Forever born

to be a writer

and my own

author representing

the Love of the Father