I

want to write,

like a song bird in the early morning.

Exhaling melodies into the open

air for the wind to seize

upon its back. Carrying them distances

until my voice grows hoarse.

I

want to write,

as if the harvest moon's just settled,

low. Laying its gentle shadow amidst

a backdrop of darkness, while she

hums sweet lullabies

to her dreaming souls.

I

want to write,

for the voice that isn't heard

in the back of the room on a rainy day.

Under a shadow's doubt, hidden

behind a facade so eager to listen -

yet unable to hear.

I

want to write.