ODE TO EPIPHANY

Inspiration hath struck
The muse hath spoken
And cryptic verse
Is cloaked no more
For it lies revealed
And I see,
With clear vision, with eyes wide open
Fear?
I shall fear no more these wastelands of paper
These barren desolate sheets
For I am inspired
I am bestowed
With power of the word
And so the story unfolds
And I am made humble
And I am made meek
At the way in which the fountains of prose gush and storm
And flow with thunderous speed
Until my pen is tortured and broken
And the sheets choked
With words insightful and bleak
And yet still
Epiphany creeps
My brain bursting and sore
Continues to pour forth
Wondrous verses
And paragraphs galore.


Copyright by Kavita Nandlal