When lightning strikes or raindrops fall,
my poet soul must transcribe all
and bring to life the art I see
writ down with ink for all to see.

A harvest moon or sand dune view
can bring to me perceptions new.
My pen in hand, I feel the breeze,
and spirits move me as they please.

The depth the human heart can reach
are things to ponder and to teach
unto a world whose lost their way,
searching for its truth each day.

Our mind...it births the secret sage
that moves the pen across the page,
allowing script to flow sweetly —
imagination’s flight set free.