“ Writing ” ~ need be there reason ~

 

Why do you write

Asked unabashed,

As tho an answer

Other than need,

May even succeed

In shedding light…                  

 

Forces be real

I heard my reply,

Helps  touch why

Tho ne’er quite sure

My words truly fly…

 

What do you write           

She offers in spite,

My hazy taunts

Not meant be trite,

I scribble of time

That shadows mine,

To divert attention

If lot whispers of death…

 

Fate may deny

Time I have left,

So while I’ve breath

And feelings to best,

I’ll write with my soul 

Thus wants life bold,

Without reason or why

For as long as I’ll get!

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“ The Prodigy ” ~ of conception ~

 

I’ve travelled since                                                 

Beyond that birth,

I could not know

In mother’s darkness,

A black night’s swallow

Taking life form

To journey my way out,

Pushing thru a state

Of her laborious pain,

Till life flails about

For reasons hazy

I know not to explain,

Or why now be without

The comfort of her reign…

 

Thus epoch thin

That underside,

Of child’s memory

Natures proscribe,                              

Where life begins

Tho details of a million

Must stay afloat

In shadows left within,

Yet matter of account

Survives not giant step,

As bond to womb dissolves

And blurs its natal travel,

To vanish at birth’s arrival…

 

Alas the comfort

Of birth’s darkness    

Long ago abandoned,

Now too lies buried

In a gentle mother’s grave!