Waiting and watching for the storm clouds gather to in the soul; a friction between heart & mind.
As the friction builds the potential energy, electric edginess runs up & down your spine.
The mind’s sky becoming pregnant in appearance & heavy with pressure.
Hues of magic hint themselves at the edges of sight ready to open a fissure.
Sheet lightning flashes across her swollen belly…a rhyme here, a phrase there.
Concepts, themes & ideas come to life alongside couplets & stanzas like snowflakes in air.
Bolts of lightening flash between the mind & heart piercing both for bloody ink spilt in a frenzy on the page.
This is the curse of poets as payment for magic on the page & a key to each poet’s cage.
L.B.Stowe 