I can\u2019t draw
\nthe shadows of the night,
\ncompose music
\nof wind rhapsody,
\nsculpt the way
\nthe world shapes a hill,
\nwork the innate
\ngeometries of wood.
\nYet,
\nI am my own truth.
\nI own a kind of poetry.<\/p>\n
I want every atom inside me
\nto be sky and earth,
\ncolor, coloring its places.
\nClay, shaped within my hands
\nfor pots, to hold flowers,
\nand sculptures standing
\nwhere my heart stands.
\nLips shaping words
\nfor songs that need singing.
\nThen I will be
\nwhat I\u2019m meant to be,
\na lark,
\nlistening to its poet.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
I can\u2019t draw the shadows of the night, compose music of wind rhapsody, sculpt the way the world shapes a hill, work the innate geometries…<\/p>\n