Her Reality

It began with a word or two, perhaps a
Random thought searching for its pen
Of discovery and the ink of curiosity

That bled from her heart and soul... and
She gathered those words as they drifted
By, keeping them close... keeping them

Safe, until they asked to be written
In shades of poetry and shadows of prose,
In moments of silly abandon, and those

Of poignant reflection. She honed her craft,
Her dream, her vision, her possibility, and her
Words remained loyal to her as she did to them...

It began with a few words.
It blossomed into a dream.
It became a vision.
And she? She made it her reality
And a writer was born.