Words still allure me

Back when tying my shoes warranted a pat on the back,

and I sang Scooby-Dooby Doo as Mom cooked dinner--

back when I sat on the laundry machine to hide-and-seek,

and fairytales nurtured my very being...


Words were alluring. 


Words were magical and extraordinary--

like a mysterious message in a bottle. 

Somebody's thoughts from a far off land,

frozen in time, 

waiting to be unwrapped. 


Back then, I tried for the first time to write a poem. 

Mad energy spewing in all directions,

thrashing and crashing about 

and words scribbled down just because they rhymed. 


A beautiful struggle,

a strange satisfaction amidst the sweat,

And unabashed sharing of my messy work--


"This poem is for you, too."


Back then, I wrote fearlessly.

Simply because it was fun. 


How about now?

Well, I--

I suppose I should be better by now...

Better than mad energy spewing

and crashing and thrasing about.


But it's not all that different.

I'm still just a kid

swinging my arms

spinning in a circle 

when the sun warms my shoulders and

because the trees look equisite in their emerald necklaces. 


I'm still just a kid

enthralled by poets 

effortlessly filling the room with the smell of buttery popcorn

or thundering hooves. 


And words still allure me. 

That's why I write. 


But  something else too--


How one life touches another,

a small spark that sets off the other. 


Cuz to me, a poem's not a poem

until it's found

like the notes in a bottle

reaching the shore. 


And wherever you are, 

reading this here: 


Never forget--

Your thoughts,

your dreams,

your shouts,

your cries 

mean something incredible to someone out there. 


You know the lines of your favorite poetry 

that you still hold close--

Vivid images and fierce convictions 

that arouse you even now. 


Words will be. 

Words will inspire,


and surprise. 


Back then, I decided I wanted to be a part of that. 

And now. Well, nothing's changed. 











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