Deity

We sat that summertime, 

On the shoals by the sea.

You had with you a sheaf of paper. 

But you only sat watching,

And your eyes pierced through me,

As well as the sea. 

And I asked you why you wrote, 

And you asked why do I,

I believe I said "because I can," 

Or perhaps "because I enjoy it,"

You smiled silently and nodded, 

And then said,

"I write because a writer is a creator, 

A god."

And I sat in silence, awed, 

As I watched you write there that summertime 

On the shoals by the sea.