Writing these lines into being—
spinning out fate in a rhyme
of ink and meaning:
My own heart becomes the work
I’m weaving—
the tapestry I’ve chosen.
A life’s long labor is
hard ground broken—
but the rain reclaims fertility.
Inspiration and frustration
copulate—
pen meet hand and paper.
My soul thirsting
for that elusive elixir
of clarity.
More at http://about.me/dklawitter.