Poem That I Write

Poem that I write ,

Did you come from me?

Or were you in captivity,

Longing to be free.

Did I make you up?

My brain child could you be?

Or were you in the stream of life

And only flowed through me.

I must be very quiet

Or you will not come my way;

But once you fall upon the page ,

I know you’re here to stay.

Sometimes you do amaze me

With your beauty, wit, and power;

And I know I cultivated

But did not create your flower.

Poem that I write ,

I’m glad to give you birth;

But it’s the source from which you came

That really gives you worth.

Note: I wrote this poem years ago in a blank journal I kept my poetry in. After several moves and relocations, I seem to have lost the original copy, but the words came back to me and I wanted to share it.

I have often felt, when writing a poem, that it was being dictated to me and I was merely the transcriber. Other times, I have "heard" the words to part of a poem but did not write it down. Later, I would see almost the same, exact words published by another writer.

That is where I got the idea of poetry being in the 'stream of life', destined to be written - if not by one poet, then by another. It is always a joy to be the one through whom a poem comes to life!