THE LISTENING POET

From the onset of the onyx I make this promise
I call these worries
I snipe this fingers
I remember this concept
To be a true born child of mama
To be a better player of the flute
To be a better singer of melodies
To call on hearts to opportunities
I wish me a listening poet.

They say he cares
Some say he fears
I know he hears
In looks profoundly leer
I choose…to listen

Pray me a god
Show me its throne
Make me a home
Let be alone
With him,
Only him
The listening poet…

I order!
Come out
Drums out
Claps harped
Horns blown
Might shown
The poet listens…

This weather of breeders
Shows up to dreamers
Fast spent in Rivers
My years as I age
I choose,
He that is troublesome
Handsome to thunderstorms
Listen!
The listening poet is listening…