Over the rice field
A golden path was created
It tickled the dendrites
Of my mind.
A new day is born
I immediately grab my pen
It bleeds
Myriad of thoughts and emotions
And words
Dance before my very eyes.
At dawn
A poem is born
It is a recollection of sorrows
Solitude and togetherness
A slice of history
And a childhood memory.
It is my language
That comes from the innermost
Chamber of the mind
Through the core of the heart.
It is ardently hoped
That like a river
It flows
And sears through
Your deepest hearts.
Copyright 2017, Rose Marie Juan-Austin, All Rights Reserved