Every poem is Poem Of Hope - From before it sits there to the final finesse, From the slow motion stumbling and lope, All clumsy arms and gangled legs, To the heads-up "I Am Here" of its very first breath.
Every birth is a Birth of Hope - Pushing upwards into the light however dark, Crying out in joy and anguish both, Life is poetry in a blazing arc, From the first "What Am I?" to its fading spark.
We are Children doing childish things - Daubing the pages of our lives with words, Living our days in moments filled with meanings, Every second, every hope, denying the absurd As the last "Who Was I?" goes unread and unheard.