It may come as a single word,
a phrase or an idea
that slowly seeds like crystal spars
a latticework of thoughts.
Through patience see the thousand sounds,
suspended glowing notes
reflecting substance, space and structure
of the shape that now evolves.
Then tease the thread of words
that wind from start to very end.
A garland taut with tension
strung 'cross racing streams of consciousness
sending echoes in harmonic tones,
vibrations of the sum.
Let lens of self release its soul,
and lo, a poem has been born,
engendered by a source sublime,
the art of making beauty rhyme.
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