"...the truly creative mind in any field is no more than this: A human creature born abnormally, inhumanely sensitive. To them... a touch is a blow, a sound is a noise, a misfortune is a tragedy, ...a joy is an ecstasy, a friend is a lover, a lover is a god, and failure is death. Add to this cruelly delicate organism the overpowering necessity to create, create, create - so that without the creating of music or poetry or books or buildings or something of meaning, their very breath is cut off... They must create, must pour out creation. By some strange, unknown, inward urgency they are not really alive unless they are creating'.-Pearl S. Buck

Monday, January 17, 2011

i should

i should write you a love song
because i can
because i choose to
my days edges are rounded by you

i should sail the seas for you
to your side
as only i can
because the moon calls my tides

i should touch your skin
the way i yearned
fallen through
Posted by at
Labels:

1 comment:

Subscribe to: Post Comments (Atom)