when large-life happens
I long for
paper and pen
but sometimes
I have to write
poems on my heart
last night
was one
of those times
in the dark of
the concert hall
the poems came
most were not
in words
quite yet
more in amorphous shapes
nebulous impressions
newly emerging thoughts
but some came
fully formed
in crisp, clear words
speaking to my heart
of brokenness and longing
of searching and being seen
of mending
healing
transforming
and as the words
of poets came
I also wrote my own
