The drive within, that mysterious push,

enraged orange fire, twists its fingers,

around my red throbbing heart, my blood is hot.

Cold statues entombed in green moss,

an overwhelming warm yellow light from my eyes,

dances for a moment, across their empty faces.

 

Fingers desire, to dance upon ‘clicky clack’,

Letter keys, become faded,

Stories, become clear,

Warm paper erupts from whirling printers,

releases a flat inky odor, and electric puff.

 

Reader, and Writer, embrace within,

cozy blankets of words, and worlds.

Life’s moments captured in text,

a waterfall of ideas, water of the mind,

The mysterious push of the flame,

forever, overwhelming.

 

Copyright © 2017 Zachary W Gilbert