When poetry comes and I in altered state
Receive the beauty of a world unknown
That lies within and certainly above,
Recipient of verses that are sown
As seeds are broadcast by the gardener's hand
I know not where or when the moment dawns
But settled in the quiet of a room,
Driving on the busy roads of time
Or wakened from the alpha waves of sleep,
All doubt dispelled, nothing I assume
But wait upon the Word to move the hand
And see as dots on an illumined page
The lines take shape and of a sudden feel
The rhythms of the dance within my soul.