Creation.

I've got small hands and bright eyes
hold a heavy heart.
Soul please don't leave me
because I've got time and you've got ties.
So let's tie back together the shattered peices
of my old beat and battered.
Out of this cage of bones
and buried.
Fly me free of this burden carried.
Small porcelin cracked and slivered
cold fingers to the touch
of rosy cheeks.
All my thoughts fly and flitter;
as if only the bird I could fly and flutter.
Taken by trees and the
sun burns my feet;
Float high, fly wide.
Just don't forget to breathe.

I always feel the most desire and inspiration to write after I finish a book.
But this; inches from sleep; kept fluttering around my brain, threatening me to write it down.
I grabbed the semi-empty composition and jotted. It all flowed after that.
The inspiration? The meaning? Only my unconscious has the answer; that is where these words popped out of.
Even I wish I had more of an answer to what they mean..

I own my words.. but not always understand them right way.


It will come.