The Thaw
My period of silence is at end
The poetry within me can be heard
Millenia of stillness are undone
By the persistent power of the word.
The words I'd kept inside were still as ice
Fully formed yet impossible to hear
Until some melting started them to flow
And tiny rivulets of words appeared.
The stream swelled slowly, growing, flowing
As gradually it warmed in light of day
Gently it formed a serious river
Where lazy birds may dream and fish can play.
Stand back! The flood of words is coming down.
An unsuspecting audience might drown.
