Lookout Poet

Original Artwork by Mark Warren Jacques

But at a horizon of its own making.

A poet, an ear pressed to the vastness, listening.

Letters built up in a silent forge.
The souls raw ore hammered into verse.

I bear the weight of this unborn universe,
Worlds without soil, stars without sky,
A journey taken in the stillness of self.

In my heart, words coalesce with blood.
A life of navigating dreams with open eyes.
Touching something, but,
Never really holding it.
Leaving me with a longing to live.