Prose into Spice
Prose into spice, sunset into colors,
form into beauty, the same into others,
in need of something more than
like barren Earth as time began
as man began to think
and found himself with pen and ink.
a searching for something for the taste
inside an insipid story penned in haste
a vapid narration in need of spice
a warming of the words to break the ice
a spark to ignite and kindle the fire
a reaching to the heart to increase the desire
a touching of the senses to bring out the passion
a searching for a word to drive it into action
a something that comes inside and moves around
that lifts the mind and body off the ground
and keeps them adrift and in another world
with air in the chambers and wings unfurld.
“O words and spice, keep me in thy custody;
my imagination, my mind, my thoughts, my body.
Keep them inside me until I die,
then even after as I fly and fly.”
