Poetry comes softly to my lips

Poetry comes softly to my lips. Tiptoeing on lotus feet it shyly enters my presence, silent in its approach, radiant with the beauty of the word. It spins around me in a slow dreamlike spiral, feeding on the small electric currents of my life, growing into a swirling maelstrom that engulfs my very being and dominates my every thought. Absurdity reigns like a court fool in the absence of the king. It stuns me with its beauty and then taunts me by refusing to coalesce into language. Poetry drives my fevered mind before it - I can hear the catcalls coming from the crowds - fantastic visions and inspirations are laid to waste in my mind, unable to escape that elusive shadowy realm; only twisted expressions of the inexpressible come to light: burning with crimson passion or cobalt sorrow they struggle against the bonds of language - interpretation is merely another word - schitzophrenic it slides between inspiration and insanity; I float on the surface, carried by invisible riptides pulling me ever further from shore, adrift on the azure expanses of the ocean of my subconscious: vivid colours hidden away appear as subtle shades of blue, camouflaged and almost imperceptible - the coral reefs of my dreams house countless adventures, loves and lies; hidden away within this blue-tinted world lurk the shades of the past, my heart races as the memories swim past, anxious to be free of the guilt and shame fastened nooselike about my neck, pulling me ever deeper into the inky darkness below me. Poetry parts the chill waters and I follow it across sleek fields of green, the soft summer breezes ruffling my hair, the gentle rushing of zephyrean grasses fills my soul with solace; I sleep the saintly slumber of the innocent - helpless I am led by the tiny hand of inspiration, its palm eclipsed by my own; I see your face dancing in its eyes, I hear your voice in its blessing, I feel your caress in its touch - you are inspiration. You are poetry to me. Come softly to my lips and inspire me with your kiss; drive my fevered mind with a simple look in the eye; part the chill waters of sorrow and teach my tortured soul the true meaning of beauty.