Truly gifted poets
Straddle their crafts early on
Some even in adolescence
They have been cursed or blessed
To be kings and queens of utterance.
I never dreamed of becoming a poet
It was furthest from my mind
Then in a sudden twist of eardrum
It happened in my mid thirties.

Out of the recesses of Time
Came the lure and a hook
Shining in enchanted brook
And before i knew it
My heart was snatched
And my movements flustered
When i bit on ambrosiac bait
Drenched in Muse's wine
Drugged and drunk
On sounds and images
I struggled in a pool of words
To assemble what held me infused
To make sense of orphaned views
Swaying between shade and light
Like dancers deprived of audience.

My poetic rapture began
In frenetic rain of ink
preposterous in direction
A poetaster rapt on vapid rhymes
With sounds of poetic crimes
But my craft developed
In piecemeal fashion
And rendered my pen composed.

A minnow of long ago
Has grown into a mackerel
And longs to become a whale
In the ocean Ars Poetica
Though it seems a pipe dream.

time sweeps
the
dust of God
into
the
hearts of men
the
residue
left behind
light up
the
stars
again

red
sock-eyed salmon
we
swim upstream
to
serenade
the
ghost white moon
that
we
dream

It's the cool autumn breeze that smells of earth and new beginnings.
It's that one country song that makes me feel nostalgic.
It's the ominous clouds and heavy air before a thunderstorm.
It's that moment of bittersweet emotion after reading the last word of a really good book.
It's watching the sun slant in through my bedroom window and create a mural on my wall.
It's rolling my windows down as we near the shore, and breathing in the salty air.
It's hearing my mom's contagious belly laugh.
It's that tired-happy feeling after a productive day.
It's when the Ferris wheel pauses and I'm at the very top, admiring the lighted world below.
It's the lump in my throat and tears in my eyes during a heartfelt prayer.
It's my niece wrapping her chubby little arms around my neck and putting her head on my shoulder.
It's laughing uncontrollably with my best friend at the grocery store, and not caring what people are thinking.
It's lying on the trampoline and watching the stars on a summer night.
It's the adrenaline running through my veins after a run.
It's listening to the sound of rain pounding on my window as I'm tucked under the covers.

It's the little things that impact me in the biggest way.

Have you ever seen a sunflower reaching out to the sun, following him wherever he goes?

Or an evening water lily shying away and blushing under her lovely pink at all times when the sun is in the sky?

Have you ever seen a dandelion break herself into countless little pieces and fly away to places unbeknownst, just to make herself full again?

Have you ever seen a rose, apprehensive of what might destroy him, guarding himself with numerous thorns, yet so beautiful that you can’t help but ignore his thorns?

Have you ever seen daisies growing through the cracks in the sidewalk, reminding you to look for beauty even when you can’t?

Have you ever seen flowers? Then you have seen love; for flowers are nothing, but love.

Let me stay in your dwelling place
To be safe in your arms
To be still
To hear Your voice only
To just be your daughter
Your precious little girl
To be who You says I am