I am a poet, — though
I’ve yet to write a poem —
when my soul blossoms
and my mind goes free
when I finally let go of
the suffocating shroud
o’er the wildness of me
my beauty will spill out
the ink will overflow and
finally I’ll be able to see
through a sapphire lens
into the heart of infinity
I know I am a poet —
someday — I will be
but the earth hasn’t yet
shattered inside me
I have still only yet got
the seeds of the words
within me; I am learning
and yearning and earning
and living my way toward
being born into harvest
There’s a meteor shower
inside my brain —
stars shooting down
every bright idea
words burning out
before inking the page —
broken-hearted dementia
sleepless engulfing fog —
search and rescue crews
report every line gone