Help

Help

Help…
I don’t know what to say.
Every time I pen
a word, a sentence, a
phrase

off I go—
not clear
where the ink will run.

I touch the paper…
lift up—
the tender sounds of
dawn’s ‘unheard’ entrance
wrap around me.

Soft light appears
while a chorus of
insects sings an
endless hymn of
praise.

To write
its daily
utterance—
nothing timed,
fixed, thought through

only its
‘purpose’—
to sing
with such
joyous bliss…

“HELP” arrived—
all the timeless
voices

simply seem
to get it!
How can they ever
stop their music
when given
this life to live—

AND
what say I?