Daily Breadth of Existence through the Pen

Location

'tis a wonderous thing to be a Poet

To dream, to write, to be as yet we have known it.

The sensual pleasure of that last letter that was written, O ye I've been smitten.

Yet, my work is still incomplete. I must continue to write- a glorious feat.

For, I have not said all of that which I intend to say.

It's far better to dream, dream, dream away.

My heart beats letters per minute, like a spiritual typing machine as it were.

I dream of poetic beings, of a life beyond the toil. Yet that dream is reality within the fibers of the paper that I consider sacred soil.

I am beckoned to write, with Liberty and full license to dream,

my work is as of yet not complete it would seem.

The word of the Poet is a powerful thing, as it moves the planet

all night and day.

Comments

Need to talk?

If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741