My favored form of dialogue is this:
With Pen in hand and well-endowed with Ink,
The Words stored in my head I can’t dismiss,
Drop dew-like on the page and make me think.
The question I ask daily is the one,
Which brings me back to write what I observe.
Is true reality under the sun?
Or is it settled somewhere, where the swerve
Will lead me off the well-worn path? As I
Encounter life in mystery and song.
My heart and soul are stirred and with a sigh,
I raise my eyes to see where I belong.
The sun I live beneath, a fading star;
Reality is hidden where you are.
Copyright © 2017 by Deone Emineth