On the Cusp

This is truly where I now so live,
relishing the chance to then give
the ink just a little quick spill,
savor every moment of this thrill.

Settling here within this hush,
riding atop a deep inky rush,
when dipped quill kisses paper—
set all aglow by this lone taper.

For this is the only poet way:
penning poetic words to say,
living a life always on guard,
examining each and every shard.

Tackle these puzzles piece by piece,
make this lonely longing cease
by immersing me into each night,
by embracing each ritual and write.

Since I still know no other way
to finally have the right to say
all that I dare feel here inside—
at peace with all I have denied.