Clear and Complex

Its not premeditated It can be accumulated But not made up of air Sometime it comes when I’m not even aware It may be an image, a feeling, or an event That I must put on paper and then accent It’s a spirit within me begging to come out It’s a seed I plant ready to sprout Its written on any small piece of paper I may encounter There resting in a pile on the counter Then rearranged and transferred to my screen It’s a state of mind, a place where I may dream Writing for me is a vital part of my everyday Poetry is my vision, utilized in how I look, see and play Won’t you come with me on a lyric journey of life Where the rivers flow and the drums beat with the fife