Restless soul looking for an anchor,
I seek it in art or music and yet it’s not completely there.
I read and wonder,
how incredible it must be to be a writer,
a weaver of worlds, of lives,
an artisan of tapestries made of words.
What an escape - to create other places,
to sculpt characters,
to paint scenery,
using language alone.
What a dream – to use words
to conjure up another plane of existence.
to create music that has no notes
using letters alone.
What a refuge – a place to rest my weary soul.
This anchor I seek is here.
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