Ashes in a Wilderness

To you, readers, I say

I am no writer -

these words

placed themselves

on my page

to tell a story

 

To you, writers, I cry

I am no chronicler -

these tales

spun their web

through my mind

to make a memory

 

To you, poets, I sing

I am no rhymer -

these lines

etched their pattern

on my paper

to form a psalm

 

To you, who come, I whisper

I am no voice -

those sounds

lift their hymn

from the book

to sing your future

 

poemsreadersstorieswordswriterswriting

◄ Travel Sickness

Late Wisdom ►

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