My poetry is my music
And my music, my poetry.
It is the roar of a towering waterfall
And the rustle of a forest in the wind,
The soft sunset on a restless ocean
And the willful silence of the starry void.
It is the blood in my aging veins
And the breath in my soiled lungs,
The pathless direction of my thoughts
And the emotions of my mortals’ soul.
It is everything good in my life
Packaged into one festive box,
The surprise party of every day
And the champagne of every night.
My music is my poetry
And my poetry, my music.
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