My pencil escapes to etch the face of the sun's rays
-Dancing forth from my hurried fingertips
Winds sing with a pitch of peace
-Reciting the verse with precise hymns
I am the wander'r
Catching a ride on earth's rolling tides
A poet-
With the harmony of holy
And the wounds of evolutionary suicide
A child laughs
-I capture the shade within her eyes
An old man whose life has passed by
-My lead paints the tears he can no longer hide
Divinity and despair are my parchment seeds;
The breath of a lover
The uncompassed motion of the trees
These are the elements to which my spirit becomes- me
For to wake upon a dawn and not be that which is poetry-
Shall be the day which I no longer wake-
For that is day my soul has been released
