Poetry

These words are spilling out of me. They are
saving me.
In the obsidian places of my mind, which lately, overrun the incandescent thoughts,
free verse, an anthology of greats,
are holding me together.
Once you become attuned, it's amazing how you find it
poetry, everywhere.
My favorite songs speak to me in their simple expression.
The unexplainable becomes less opaque when the form to express it is not as
governed.
I am saved by a compilation, near my bed. I read it and am connected with others who found a new salvation
by simply writing how they feel.
Words coalesce, sentences form
throughout the day.
And sitting, pausing, they are released. I am freed.
As I escape, the dark is washed, ebony strands drip. Ochre falls. My mind comes together,
whole.
Light, silvery, pure, replaces.
Heals.