Water From Ice

A spinner of poetry,

a weaver of prose

 

A seeker of truth,

or deceiver of both

 

Will verse be in conflict,

with chapter’s unrhymed

 

Can the feeling’s transfer,

is there likeness in kind

 

Will I always remember,

which prayer I must pray

 

Does the magic get lost,

if the wheat’s in the hay

 

Can I capture this moment,

be it virtue or vice

 

In my verse or a novel

—drawing water from ice

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: March, 2017)

Leave a comment