I press my hand flat
        on this blank page
And feel words pulsing
        in the paper
They cling to my fingertips
Like children looking for attention
And I know when they move
To life like seeds busting open
        to let go their eager shoots
Like newborns racing to the *****
Like currents racing into every crack
        carrying mud and milk
                and love's blue skies --

For a moment they will hold
        dominion over any prayer or soliloquy
And I can say well done before I go --