There is a fire,
That follows me,
That fuels my desire,
To pull the expressive,
Thoughts that I think,
Into a bounded, stapled capsule,
That requires black ink.
The words then move from my pen,
And come to life as they suspend,
From the brink of my lips.
Me…deliver a spoken word?
Standing before a group of folk,
Who are entangled in the words,
That my life initially wrote.
My life gradually revealed…
Situations change,
Aspects rearranged,
All because I spoke?
A showcase,
All about my gift,
Attendees greeted with an enlarged poster,
With my face,
Not being entertained…but ministered to,
Obvious reactions surface,
With the responses, ‘That’s deep’,
And ‘Yea that’s true…’
Are you ready for me?
Am I ready for you…
That follows me,
That fuels my desire,
To pull the expressive,
Thoughts that I think,
Into a bounded, stapled capsule,
That requires black ink.
The words then move from my pen,
And come to life as they suspend,
From the brink of my lips.
Me…deliver a spoken word?
Standing before a group of folk,
Who are entangled in the words,
That my life initially wrote.
My life gradually revealed…
Situations change,
Aspects rearranged,
All because I spoke?
A showcase,
All about my gift,
Attendees greeted with an enlarged poster,
With my face,
Not being entertained…but ministered to,
Obvious reactions surface,
With the responses, ‘That’s deep’,
And ‘Yea that’s true…’
Are you ready for me?
Am I ready for you…