There is an effortlessness
Of sound and rhyme, sometimes
The fully formed thought appears
Cheers!
The heart is relieved and hears
Other times
It's a wrestling match
It's a unweildy bush and the pruning seems hopeless
Unreachable branches and awkwardness
Why?
Sometimes the flow
Other times the turbulence?
Same plane, new disturbance?
Still better to write, right?
Then to be perfect.
This is not my righteousness
It's probably just my loneliness
And need
Freed in stanzas
Unhidden agendas
Sometimes after hours of labor its not 'right'
But there is a kernel there
Or a phrase
An so I publish and go on with my days
Sometimes I look back kind of ashamed
Other times proud, "I made that flame!"
Did you feel that, the spark?
Just another dancer in the dark.
