Wednesday, November 3, 2010

The Poem

Full of hopes and dreams
I pray.
Every word a purpose plotted
my gift to me
and the world
blown into the ethers
on wings of love and faith,
wishes for happy homes
in other people's hearts
If only,
if only...

It begins with me
indeed,
but syllables plucked 
from the air,
this artist's scribe
with words sprung from finger's pen
begging to fill
the voice of the wind
as authored by
whom; God's will?
or perhaps just me?

*
Always late to the table,
but still offering a few meager words to share
just to say I was there

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