It's
that
moment
just before
ink touches paper,
just as my finger strikes the key,
knowing that words will emerge, but the uncertainty
Of
where
the thought
will travel
like the moon seeking
a phase with rhythms pulsating,
like a needle touching records, similes rhyming,
Like
a
bluejay
searching trees
for a tune to sing,
the journey unwinding in songs
I hope to say, try to think, strive to paint with texture,
To
map
the quest's
mystery
of polarities,
the thrill of an emerging poem,
ink touching paper, fingers striking keys, words dancing
