Process

Today,
I am a poet.
I can feel the words
Welling up within me,
LIke a smile I have not yet freed.

I can feel them rising,
Fluttering in my ribcage
Like so many butterflies,
Feeding on the world's nectar
-Of life and death and hope and despair
And what is and what may be-
And growing strong.

Soon, they will break loose,
Unleashing their majesty in a storm
Of syllables and sounds and strokes
Of the pen upon the page.