Kevin D. Cordi
Sitting alone with my thoughts
It was time for a
It calls, word delivery! Wrapped in fragments,
clauses, prepositions, or a barrage of tangle tantalizing tics of
timeless titles and topics, my word delivery arrives.
At all hours
Like lightening, quick and jarring
the words make their entrance.
No metal flying craft carries its package
The word announces its arrival ---
when resting, showering, or simply being idle,
Sometimes as riddle that I contemplate for the night
Sometimes it seems discombobulated, but often is not.
It remains like a curtain residing in a window frame.
A border for my thinking, connected to new and the unexplored.
Sometimes like a slow pulse
It enters to provide a beat, a pulse,
It loudly cries,
I am here, listen to me.
Like a thunderclap, it lands in my mind
Announcing word delivery!
A message for you, a private correspondence
An internal secret to mend thoughts, sew an idea,
or string together randomness.
To form a concert of investigation, speculation,
Because of its delivery, I am no longer
cloudy, forgotten, empty,
words carry me forward
to a time once forgotten or barely started or a new place
--A place and time
to remind me I am not alone.
Words sustain and move me
Like a clarion call, the message arrives
When it does,
I am here.
Kindly thank the messenger for me.
As no signature is needed for word delivery.