Writing is more than

Words arranged beautifully,

My soul reflects.

Was I to just wait,

Wishing that you’d figure out

I was worth it all?

You didn’t want “us”

Or said you really weren’t sure.

What was I to do?

I just care too much?

No, that is no right at all.

I care just enough

I want to give up,

But you know I can’t do that.

I just care too much.

You are a canvas,

A place to paint my wildest dreams.

You are a blank slate,

Freedom to begin anew.

You are a fresh page,

Room enough for my poetic touch.

You are a line of music,

Harmonious with my own.

You are a thin brush,

Open to your own inspiration.

You are a sun,

Fueled by your own light.

You are a vista,

Much more than a shot.

You are waterfall,

Ever flowing with power, yet sweet.

You are a cherry blossom,

Light, yet impressive to the heart.

You are a song,

My song, complex and clear…

You are…

So much more than you may ever know.

We are unified,

In thought, heart, song and in choice.

You alone, my voice.

What you really want

Not what you don’t now, but

What you never will.

I am not well known,

but I’m important

Someone out there knows my name.

It’s not because I sing well,

Talk well, or dance,

Though I do fine, all the same.

I have a path brilliante,

That trails through the stars

Light, illumination, heals my scars.

I have a place somewhere,

I just have to glance around.

Looking toward the sky, not the ground.

There is an ache within me

That asks me who I am

Tied down by my remembrance,

The ashes stay my feet,

Darkening my sight

Muddling my reflection.

“Remember who you are.”

Echoes though my thoughts

A cacophony of voices

The rhythms bend and twist

My writing starts to fade…

I am.

I am…

I.

I am a spark.

More than a giant’s shadow

Or tree’s majestic shade.

I am…

Still figuring that out.

Forged in a star’s core

Burning with warm, brilliant light

I know who I am.