Interior Language Poem by RoseAnn V. Shawiak

Finding nothing to say, dwelling within an interior language,
a fire blazing into the intellect of nature, always within me.

Searching and going nowhere, yet something is coming about
silently and being coded to show that it is a possibility of
life yet to come.

That of finding a cure for death in a future lifetime, just
writing into books about it's instant appearance about to
come about on a future horizon.

Silhouettes of it's essence appearing as the sun begins to
set within my being tonight.