Today, I Will

Today, I Will

Wash my hands in words.
Bleed from the slash of a cutting tongue
  or perhaps
  float on the gauzy foam of imagined sea.
Roll with abandon on metaphorical leaves
  scattering my words on an autumn breeze.
Paint sounds, write nuances,
  listen to the music of the pen
  and then
  create a few lines, mottled combinations, while I
  pour me upon the page.
Choose sepia or magenta moments; blend
  colors that usually bequeath muddy tones, but I
  shall create something new; a hue that evokes
  that place where only writers can pass.
Loose the ink to drip into verbal designs
  or splotch - blotting out the inane.
Follow neither lines or rules.
Be brave, impetuous -- dance, swirl, twirl
  ajective-ly as my muse leads or I,
  stepping on its toes,
  choose flight or magic and cavort
  upon a cloud, while chasing words,
  scrawling rumpled poems across the sky. 

Today, I will sign my name in the wind
  and I will have been.