Soothing Passage

I take a breath before I start,
A frail release from inside my heart.
With a strike of a key my idea begins,
And is carried away by silver wings.
Deeply passionate the words then flow,
Only growing faster, never slow.
A reflection of my soul onto the screen,
This poem I write is now born a dream.

Held in my grasp the brush moves by,
Painting colors of the pale lit sky.
A vivid scene of my dreams now form,
And another part of my soul is born.
Strokes so smooth and fine I make,
As more raw colors the brush does take.
And then when my work is completely done,
I rest silently in the light of my new sun.

With hands so nimble I grab my soul,
And mold it to fit my silent hold.
I smooth it out and form a shape,
Inside held thoughts that can't escape.
And then this form I pass on to be,
A simple dream in my mind's vast sea.
So I use it for inspiration in coming age,
Like nature uses a man, a forest sage.