Surge
Out of autumn winds
You have woven me
Out of pregnant silence
You have spoken me
You have strung me
In a garland of flickers
Around your neck
I am around you
And inside you
I am the perfect moment
In a surge of randomness
I am the rhyme
In all the poems
You failed to write
So I don’t exist
And neither do you
©2008 Dosia McKay
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The beauty of poetry is that it connects with our soul that has been loyally shielded by this flesh.
they are many poems that we fail to write,
many thoughts that die without a word,
many plots that are woven without a thread,
it is just a surge that pushes you ahead.
a brilliantly written piece, kudos to you Diane…I am an admirer of abstract art and I can see the surge in your strokes with those beautiful colors from your palette
pardon my ignorance…Dosia (not Diane)