Sunday, November 14, 2010

The Collector of Stories

I've dreamt of being a writer
A crafter of words.
To use the language I was given
To make people laugh and cry;
To weave an enchantment for all to wonder at.

I've dreamt of giving people life
With paper and pen.
For my heroes and heroines
To laugh and run and defeat all comers.
To let them love under the moon and sun.

I've dreamt of writing poetry
Lovely and sublime.
To show the world my aching soul
Or laughing heart.
To be able to write a flower that is like no other
That is mine alone to give to you.

But, no, it was not to be
The Gods and Goddesses give us all gifts
Some to write, others to draw
Some make music to honor all.
Still other craft things from wood and stone and clay.

I see the beauty in all these things
And collect them
To share them with everyone
I am but a humble storyteller
Sharing what beauty I've found with all.

No comments:

Post a Comment