The daily reprieve I find in my pen
Helping to clear scrambled thoughts in my head.
They are like clouds in the sky
just passing by
Formless shapes awaiting definition.
At times I hope there should be
a plane in the air so I can see
words spelled out in smoke.
Instead, I must simply gaze and ponder
and allow my pen to hectically wander
Making marks on a blank background
It crosses out this and rewrites that
it fills up pages of ideas it just shat
but like a levee that breaks
and the river that wakes
the pen begins to show
a sense of divine inspiration
in which concepts just flow
The clouds become recognizable
they are storms
of feelings and emotion
that elucidate the notion, that
Escape while holding a pen
is a terribly wonderful way
to appreciate each day again.