I wrote in poetry today
words pouring down
from the sky
scattered across the page
like raindrops on hot cement
that sizzled and popped
in glorious disarray
hitting the ground
and bouncing up
again and again
collecting into puddles
where thoughts
glistened in limitless possibility
of what could be
if I just tilted the page
this way, then that
gathering words
along the invisible lines
of destiny waiting
to be seeded into orderly rows
of freshly formed thoughts
that grow
with each moment
becoming visible
in the passing
of time dancing
a joyous refrain
of Love in the poetry
of my life
pouring down.

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