the next poem seems within me
yet somewhere nestled deep
and out the moment of birthing panic
it will finally be free
there is a verse to be sung
that i have yet to know the tune
a melody for every tongue
the light for many like you
the artist's pad may be blank
but energy roars towards fingertips
and soon when all is outloud
the sketch will come to life
and live.
August 15, 2005