Poetry is the string
         looping through and
         weaving out
the needling pain

It knits a beautiful
         patchwork, coated with
         colorful patterns
our fingers trace

threads of our lives
         create designs
a shining::
shimmering::
or dulling
our emotions blend.

The sea swallowed me
in its' salty waves.
Pursued me in its'
Power.
I was unable to see in its' wake.
Breath in its' presence.
Its' depths and darkness engulfed me.
Fear.
Despair.
Loss.
Longing.
All these lived here.
And then came you....
words.
My words.
My voice.
First thought,
Then gathered,
Finally written,
Then Shared.
Poetry YOU saved me
from myself.

to me,
you are
an art

                              to you,
                              I was
                              a tragedy