Poet

Paint, poet.
Dip and fill your waiting pen
With purple drops of liquid dream…
Forget your smudges, forget the scars
And lift your brush to stroke the stars…
Sketch a sunset raging red,
Draw the clouds with swirling hand,
Knit the ripples of a silent sea
From your screaming lonely soul…

Stand, poet.
Prouder than a mountain pine,
Let the North Wind
Rip and crack your aching branches…
Now spin your shattered, broken pieces
Into a ragged tapestry
Of toothy, gnarled strength…

Cook, poet.
Gather up your splintered thoughts,
Stew them in the cauldron
Of your acidic heart
And dish them out,
A welfare meal
Free of charge
To change the world…

Oh precious poet…
Be.