Artistic Grace Poem by RoseAnn V. Shawiak

Tuned to the responsive side of inner nature allows me to
grasp dimensions of greatest artistic grace.
Filled with the amount of peace brought face-to-face in a
cold, wanting world, I settle down to write of misplaced
guidance and mystery.
Often terrified of inner markings, uncovered by a word or
short rhyme, I hide defensively behind a term of shyness.
Unforsaken, begging to be sorted through and put together
like a puzzle, I wantonly walk this earth in harried pain.
Birth of this small little world is inside of me, waiting
for it's turn to take hold and wave good-bye to the past.
Watching darkness fold it's blanket across inner universes,
hiding mistakenly, processes of creative purpose.
Untimely deaths gathering in circles, lighting pyres with
flames of anniversial quiescence.
There are no barriers hiding within me, I am a limitless
entity having no edges to cut myself with.
Endless horizons as far as the creative eye of imagination
can see, stretch eternally before me.
Never in doubt, knowing that forever will be my companion
through infinity.