The Beginning

There’s something delicious about

The first words we write

Something exciting in the lines

When there’s no end in sight

Take this here poem

I’m making up as I go

Will it blossom or shrivel?

Such a fate I do not know

Yet I continue to write

With the electricity that flows

From my brain and through my hands

But at this line, it slows

What should I write next?

What will make an impact, I ask

At this moment, making sense

Seems a Herculean task

‘I have got to convince them’, I think

‘About how hopeful those first words make me’

They create energy and offer solace

That is the Poet’s Guarantee

A beginning of something new

A chance to escape the now

A place where no one sees and no one sneers

A space where one can allow

All their hurt and their worry

To pass through a healing medium, yes!

The art that stems from pain

That makes the weight on the shoulders less

And now this last paragraph

Is what the entire poem has been leading up to

The opposite of the start, but more to me

A safe outlet that makes me emerge anew