Pencil Dance

"Though hesitancy may demand that nothing be done,
curiosity and pride override-
the half-hearted mind that feels frail with time,
and chaos to let our hand decide.

To place ill-planned words upon page blank and new,
without thought to how they may lay.
To finish each line and diminish the time-
that we spend trying to form what they say

Though format may change, wild words rearrange
in arrays so savage, in arrangement strange.
Yet with each new contortion, each piece plays a portion
in a shifting, swirling state of exchange.

The chaos I command as this pen dances around
finds order in rhythm, my internal sound.
Though sometimes words fail me, this is what I've found:
A word's written message persists.

The ideas held here have little to fear.
For they find some way to emerge.
To purpose their purpose, to point out their point,
and prevent any of their own from being missed

The words that you read hold a place on this page.
Yet the page that once spawned them is gone.
Yet they still exist, in your mind they persist.
Without form, their meaning lives on.

So let the words in you find place in your pen,
and let pen place them where they demand.
Then once they are free, just step back and see,
what you have wrought with your own hand.

These thoughts guide my path, my words, and my mind.
Thus they live within all my poems.
Comments made on my road, winding through life's long turns."
This all said as right here my pen roams.