I MUST WRITE
Trembling, my mind calls my heart
"Speak to me."
Silently I wait ... then, my heart answers.
This eager hand moves the pen with wonder.
Secret thoughts, measured by heartbeats.
Golden honey from
inspirationís carved cup.
I must write ... bottled up, I choke.
Donít hold my hand so tight.
Donít speak so loud . . . that I canít hear.
Donít walk so close behind me that I must hurry . . .
lest you catch my heels.
Let me stand still, panting from lifeís race.
Let me close my eyes
This heart will slow its beat and whisper soft a message.
My fingers will catch each word pressing them . . . against the page.
Dallas Beth Williams Gibson