Just days ago
The interior
Tsunami threatened
To overtake
All sense
Of reason
In me.
Thank God
Thank Goddess
For poetry,
For enough
Was let out
To let the waters
Out so that
Something else
Could come
Forward…
Healing comes
In so many ways
As scratched images
Of seemingly
Nothing come forth
Out of my pen
Like a tidal wave
That can only
Come out
One pen stroke
At a time
I loose whole
Hours before
I realize
The images
Before me have
Been completed
And words
Have left me.
I am so
Engrossed in the
Process of what
I am scribbling
Doodling away
Some inner beast
That comes out
As these
Art pieces
Of my emotions
For which
I have no real
Discernable words.
I can see the refinement
With each piece
I create,
Though I have
No idea
Where I am being
Lead,
I cannot help
But take each step
Obsessed with
Each thing
To complete it
Only leads
Me to the next.
Driving down the road
I am called by
The crayola section
Of every store
I pass…
More
MORE
MORE!!!
All I know
Beloved
Is that I don't feel
So sick anymore,
Nor do I feel
So overwhelmingly
Hopeless.
Where ever I am
In this sea
Of scribble
And colored
Crayons
And pens…
The rainbow of
My soul
A child who has
Been too long
Told to sit in the corner
Is creating as if
It had never happened
Before
And wants
To try everything.
So I am letting her.
So the poetry
Is but a trickle
While she wordlessly
Works her magick.