(Written on June 25th, 2003)

It’s just this thing I do
With no effort at all
The words come so naturally
From my mind through my fingers they fall

I consider it an art
And hold my brush and paint
Then I step back and look
So beautiful and breathless, I faint

Every stroke is an emotion
Every color a feeling
From blazing fire and rage
To rain, flowers and healing

Writing, my life!