Thoughts inflame as feelings stir
Words simmering yet to boil
Unspoken sparks drift through the night
A pyre still to burn

Delphian in its natural form
The smoke a treacherous friend
Ink rekindles and lies cremate
The mind, its woods on fire

As heat restores the human soul
All prodigals return
With hope to melt the frozen dawn,
—and free the poet’s hand

The verses stack and dry of doubt
Their ignition up to you
As dark they wait for your next breath
To light the spoken air

(Villanova Pennsylvania: August, 2016)