{Till words become Reason}

In a moment my fractured thoughts collect.
Light seeps through the breaks and the tail of a poem
pushes through, incomplete and distracted.
In a rush, the force of it blows,
desperate for me to set it free.
I begin to write frantically, aching to bring it out of the shadows and press it down so that it won’t wander.
It’ll always roam until I catch it and bring it to rest.
Like raw diamonds, unable to truly shine,
I’m handed the tools.
His hands guide me, sculpting till words become reason and it can be
seen.
In this, I’m given the power of creation.
And I owe it all to Him.

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