I am but a point of light, a spark
That soon becomes a flick’ring flame
As the image from a dream is bursting
Forth from deep within my soul
And the words begin to overflow my cup
Pictures in the mind becoming more
Than formless clay or shards of stone
And I begin to see the sword float
Up, out of the mist and skyward
As grace alights upon my shoulders
The knight of creativity finding its berth
Within my mind, each word a landscape,
The scent of mystery, serene velvet soothing
Each blessing in my imagination, a total grasp
Of whispers relayed in rolling ink.
No comments:
Post a Comment