Mine is not a solo story. I’ve read my poems before audiences of four to four thousand. I’ve heard from people of all ages and circumstances – including those who love poetry and those who never understood it – that they find themselves and their lives reflected through my words.

Writing is how I solve and dissolve complex equations of heart and head. It’s my personal commitment to revealing, as poetry has the ability to connect us to one another. We discover ourselves in words, unveiled and immersed in the precision of the present moment.

Today I want to share with you my poem the wanting that is waking.

i wake
gasping for air
i’ve been submerged
now finally released
repercussions repeating
cycles of measure
setting in motion
what will be
from what was
that part of me
close to death

each snapshot
a moment
in the mosaic of time
made of shards that
wear as they rasp against
each other
mismatched fragments
bonding along side
polished fluid contours

your brokenness cannot
be fixed by my truth

inside each thought is
a choice and
always another
memory makes her bed

the stitches need to be removed
lives unwoven
the pattern unraveled
setting consequence in motion
moving one time to meet another

today
the truth of silence
of alone is setting in
no more marriage

his voice
is just a distant rumble
echoing about
and from now on
there is no voice
inside my head
except my own

this morning
it’s the wanting
that is waking
desire ripening and
rising inside
passion is roused
what lies beyond
is boundless