I
thirst for the arts
Like
a man parched dry
To
look not at a ceiling
But
a clear blue sky
I
long for the freedom
That
my words once took
Spirited,
unfettered
Not
all by the book
I
turn to the rhythms
Like
a flower to the sun
To
return to the warmth
As
a prodigal son
But
trapped as I am
In
these blank white walls
Begrudging
the time
As
it sedately crawls
Only
my words
Here
they spill and seep
As
my fingers fly
And
my heartbeats leap
The
tang of freedom,
A
tantalizing thought
A
respite from tedium
No
matter how short
Though
long is the distance
Between
now and then
Yet
I rejoice,
Because
my heart lives again!
