Conversing

Words, contemplating
Conversing into phrases
Phrasing into verse
Sighs of creativity
Cushion their fall into ink

And there... they wait for me.  Absorbing colors. Gathering bits of black and white. Sipping of thoughts. Drinking of dreams. Quenching thirst.  Breathing deeply of ink's honesty. Touching the softness of anticipation and the hardness of truth. Listening to songs of prose and rhyme. Hearing  every tear and every smile that stirs the soul and leaves its lyrics upon the heart.  And I let them spill onto imagination's palette, slip slowly onto the parchment of transparency, and become their own creation, their own whisper in time and light of spirit... their own inspiration. I cannot ask for more than this because they have trusted me to give them life and I have trusted them to give me the faith to do so.