to me.
No children have I created,
nor will that ever be.
Two children I have,
a gift from the handmaiden.
Though they are the very joy, of my life,
They were not my creations.
The poems then are my creations.
The need to create drives me now.
These revelations from the muze.
Like a great pouring, of lava,
flowing forth, from a caldera.
Has it always been there?
Deep within my soul?
Out it comes now, all the heartache,
pain, and joy
It redirects the streams of joy,
flowing forth from my soul.
That I may nourish the seeds,
hidden deep in your soul.
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I love to collect thoughts. I would love to collect some of yours, if they are mindful and respectable.