Zoom

Sometimes, I start a verse in bed, as my synapses fire down.
Jotting down a couplet of non-sequiturs leaking from my crown.

I’ve lived my whole life with my head in heaven & my feet in hell.
So, who knows? I may go either way; at the hour of death’s knell.

But putting aside mythology, I’ve resigned to just exist.
My high art mind & problem feet provide my poet’s heart much grist.

So, when I wake, I tally the words that zoomed past just before dreams.
Among the random mess I’ll find a piece that just needs stronger seams.

So, I sow words upon the blank & sew until the pieces fit.
I guess my point is…”random seeds can grow into full-bodied wit”.