To write a poem
is to scribble from heart.
Some sad tearing mind apart.
Others happy to drift like lark.

To write is to enter,
a place with no time.
To give it musical rhyme
and echo divine.

To tweak it when
whispers vibrate
with phases to celebrate.

To edit a stanza so fine,
having words dance in line,

To touch eyes that open wide
the heart inside.

To born a poem and sign
for mountain words to climb.

A gift from soul to all
I answer the call

A-**!
A marching I shall go.