She shivers with anticipation,
tonight, she wants to write.
She’s been thinking, has been reminded,
how subjectivity is relative
when it is viewed objectively.
A truism already known in her depths.
She accepts its premise, now,
with personal cognizance,
beams with escalating gratitude
of friendly reiterations of her poetic soul.
She broods on cycles, on creative outlets,
of Man’s need to self-proclaim
and expound individual realities.
As it should be, in the wonder of Being.
She marvels at compassion’s strength,
its selfless, sensitive grace, its purity of form,
and its effects on human lives.
And, she smiles, as she resumes inhaling
words multitude meanings,
breathing quickly, accruing awareness.
She allows her fingers to compose,
explaining her minds heartbeat,
communicating her thanks,
and freeing her Spirit.

Erin Moen
7/5/03
Copyright 2003 ©

Thank you, my friends, for your compassion. :)