No grander
fool who
meanders
makes demands here.

Restless,
head to chest
to catch his breath
else meet his death,

the poet seeks
dreams to speak,
closes his eyes
and lets his mind
rise.

Until his art
is fully realized,
and the hunger
to create
is satisfied.

The muse
lays down
and falls asleep.
He puts down
his pen,
and lets her rest
without a peep.

Until, he needs
her life’s blood again.
She will awaken
but need sustenance,
and he will feed
everything
heard and seen
to his artist queen.

The phoenix
will rise to shatter
all the thoughts
and words that mattercont.
to create wonders once more.