I miss the fire that drove the words,
that lead my fingers to grasp the pen,
So it could make clear,
What I could not exactly explain,
I wish, my thoughts just erupted anew,
As spontaneuos as an impulsive kiss,
Thoughts immediately jumping on the page,
As exciting as a first caress,
Yet that is not the what the hands see,
Instead, a stolid memory,
Waiting for the fire to burst,
So that the words flow like a river of tears,
Cascading without thought,
Following a mind that is at peace,
Free to think and feel,
Free to see the light that burns,
To create an image that I paint,
Of dreams felt,
Of fantasies seen,
Let the light be seen again.

07/15/2004