Prose

Like the ebb and flow of a gentle tide

the words sweep over me -

carrying me to where heart and mind converge,

until I am captured in their purpose.

And would I fail to write at this fluent meeting,

their message and meaning would fall adrift -

without course, or even thread, that I might follow

and regain them.

So in rendering penned expression,

I unveil that place in me of their creation -

where others are awaiting birth.