Full Circle Poem by Bill Cantrell

In the womb of thought,
Emotions kick,
With no clear direction
Silence ticks to the beat of expectations
Imagination giving way to brith pangs,
stagnant waters have burst
Creativity falls on the unsoiled page
Thus true poetry takes its first breath,
Changing from blue to red,
As inspiration transfers
With the severing of the cord
Thus freedom enters with release
Nursing from the eyes of its creator,
It caresses the heart,
Will it bond with others?
If so,
Then it will play with rhymes and riddles,
With discipline, it shall walk the lines of intrigue
Yes, roads with foundations strong enough to carry,
The heaviest stanzas
Words of inlaid ivory,
Hammered with gold leaf
Majestic proverbs with pillars of fire and smoke,
Towering above them as each word is spoken
Yes, at first,
You carried it,
Then it walked hand in hand,
Then you let it go it's own way,
To find love fit for the likes of it's making
Again in the womb of thought,
Yet, since every child is different,
Silence once again ticks to the beat of expectations,
With no clear directions
However,
Emotions are kicking