in the deep recesses
stacked away in the hours devoted
the pen starts and stops
faint scratching sounds as
ink bleeds to page

images surface along the edge
of dreamlike state
folding back the breathing waters
of each thought speaking its own true nature

a language i cannot utter
except with my clumsy hand
except with my tears

each page its own song
with heroes and villains
tragedy and triumph
each image a crafted love story
between poet and word

twist along each trail
loosing oneself to the creation
tear away the bonds
that hold you steadfast in life
this place transcends mere life
this place is redemption

i weep at the fading image
as the poem closes
so little time to grasp all it showed me
and my hand so inadequate
my words fail to express
the love story of poet and word