Am I a spinner of Poetry,
  or a weaver of Prose

A seeker of truth,
  or a deceiver of both

Is the verse now in conflict,
  with the twice written line

Do the feelings transfer,
  is their likeness in kind

Do I always remember,
  which prayer I must pray

Does the magic get lost,
  when the wheat’s in the hay

Am I able to say once,
  what I need to say twice

To explain what I’m feeling,
—is the water now ice

(Villanova Pennsylvania: March, 2017)