The Gift

Sounds of silence, roar in my head,
rhymes of life, back from the dead.

Skills and luck, meld into one,
feelings uncovered, darkness become.

Raise my stylus, one time true,
write of colors, crimson and blue.

Flow from fingers, like golden steel,
Strong and pure, words to wield.

Wisps of wind, To guide me along,
my hand trembles, from faith of the dawn.

I know this well, this feeling of power,
writing truths, hour upon hour.

Experience unfold, twinkle of an eye,
to be revealed, to cause one to fly.

Clouds pass inside, the mind that receives,
the words spoken readily, the one who believes.

Let me see, what cannot be seen,
Let me be, Where I have never been.

Show me the wonders, of your mind, how it sees,
Swirl it around me, like a mid-summer breeze.

Refresh my heart, fulfill my soul,
as only you can, Achieve this goal.

What are you? How do you speak?
Your rhymes passionately flow,
from a soul strong yet meek.

Shout out your feelings, for all to hear,
Let the world know, far and near.

A gift from the gods, Ignore it not,
the gift of poetry, is what you've got.