For a moment it compels me
ink blot stains upon the page
where for awhile it consumes me
written in the voice of sage…
Further bleeding lines of mercy
heart with soul dance in the word
where eye meets splendor in the shadows
of these words so often blurred.

It captivates within the haunted
parched remembrance often stirred
for in its spilling through the ages
muse’s voice so clearly heard…
Wrapped around the inspiration
whispered questions sometimes feared,
become an army of salvation
when the dust has finally cleared.

For when the mind becomes a canvas
to the mysteries we embrace
the shadows only find us waiting
for the moments we must face…
Where beauty trembles in each petal
pressed beneath the page we’ve turned
it’s our chance to light the path
before our candle’s all but burned.