Birth
An idea comes in the midst of sleep.
Drowsily you grab paper and pen
to scrawl words to keep,
before they are lost again.
Characters once asleep
in the shadows of your mind,
come to life with a leap.
A story is born in a moment of time.
A story is born in a moment of time.
Let's start with my name
then we'll fill in the rest,
then we'll fill in the rest,
the chick says as she claims
a home in your mind's nest.
I want joy and strife,
a mountain to climb, a pit so deep,
the bottom or top of my life.
will take time to reach.
I may need a mate, but not quite like me
we'll both need a race, a riddle, a quest, to solve.
I don't want simple or carefree
I don't want simple or carefree
while our life evolves.
She sits on your shoulder, filling your ears.
You'll tell the tale of my life
living vicariously through my fears and tears,
laughter and love and strife.
A lifetime created with one little spark
when you read the page
written so clumsily in the dark.
Psst! My name is Sage.
~R.L.McCormack~
She sits on your shoulder, filling your ears.
You'll tell the tale of my life
living vicariously through my fears and tears,
laughter and love and strife.
A lifetime created with one little spark
when you read the page
written so clumsily in the dark.
Psst! My name is Sage.
~R.L.McCormack~
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