Ink and Feather for the Weather

Mediums of expression,
The real message.
The true essence,
The soul’s confession.

Eyes perceive scened photography,
Crafted via half-baked observation.

Red, light, room.

Agnostic alchemic transformation,
Unworthy depiction left undeveloped–

I am not a camera smith.

Mediums of expression,
The real message.
The true essence,
The soul’s confession.

Hands molding clay–
Hot, oven, chisel.

Sculpture un-sculptured,
As though Venus with no Milo.

I am no Hellenist.

Mediums of expression,
The real message.
The true essence,
The soul’s confession.

Specialization, complication– limitation?

Neural tube to synaptic differentiation.
Process of a being becoming,
In custom, cultured, conditioned fault.

I am not a scientist.

Mediums of expression,
The real message.
The true essence,
The soul’s confession.

Stress and tranquility combine,
Diction activating mind.
In heart pumped blood I rhyme,
Through ink and feather my faith I find.

Mediums of expression,
The real message.
The true essence,
The soul’s confession.

Through this word and tongue,
My communion.

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