The Process

By Elvira

The world                                is          crowded with noise
a Few               hear the call of
the unseen                                          Moses spoke to
the Bush
he        was                  blessed with the
presences        of HIMSELF

Inner vision
strangles         those who
the spirit
creating           the Poet:
the struggle
can be painful
Years               of         torment,
exposing          themselves
on paper

Words                          are cheap —
all aim at the Heart

May 2015