the poet-disciples descended
rubbing elbows
with the muses,
those angelic beings
offering coffee
and whispering inspiration,
they, the poets,
gathered 'round the Messiah
awaiting their words
this was their moment of truth
their commission
their calling
their coronation
into the halls of the prophets
here they would be equipped
with pens
paper
and soapboxes
here they would be equipped
with their words
0 Comments:
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
