She stares out the window each day
Before the sun sets away
Drinking tea and wondering
What could other people be doing?

There was nothing to see
Just buildings
And hanging clothing
On other people's housing

The wind blows
Her eyes blur
She sips tea
Her mind leaves

The images of yesterday comes
The emotions of today emerges
In her mind she hums
And with the wind she surges

No one could really understand why
This girl would want to fly
All her thoughts are recurring
But only the window knows what she's thinking.

i've been looking for
a thrill lately.
not the roller coaster riding, sneaking out
at two in the morning type of thrill, but
the type of thrill that evokes enough
curiosity to make rebellion
look like nothing.  
i'm talking about
the thrill that makes you want
so much more than what you are given,
so you avidly seek out
the unknown in hopes of
having the taste of adrenaline on your lips.

The chase ends
when you stop running
from yourself.

Creativity is
a wellspring of ideas
crisp, sweet water
gushing forth
thoughts flowing.
Creativity is
a guiding breeze
brisk, yet soothing
words of wisdom
whispering which way to go.
Creativity is
a blazing flame
smoke, showers of sparks
glowing embers remain
burning images.
Creativity is

Creativity is a spark that lights the fire,
Creativity is the genius in the soul,
Creativity is the genuine attraction in the heart,
Creativity is the spark in the eyes,
Creativity is the champion of obstacles,
Creativity is the essence of surprise.