Full Circle

In the womb of thought, Emotions kick, With no clear direction Silence ticks to the beat of expectations Imagination giving way to brith pangs, stagnant waters have burst Creativity falls on the unsoiled page Thus true poetry takes its first breath, Changing from blue to red, As inspiration transfers With the severing of the cord Thus freedom enters with release Nursing from the eyes of its creator, It caresses the heart, Will it bond with others? If so, Then it will play with rhymes and riddles, With discipline, it shall walk the lines of intrigue Yes, roads with foundations strong enough to carry, The heaviest stanzas Words of inlaid ivory, Hammered with gold leaf Majestic proverbs with pillars of fire and smoke, Towering above them as each word is spoken Yes, at first, You carried it, Then it walked hand in hand, Then you let it go it's own way, To find love fit for the likes of it's making Again in the womb of thought, Yet, since every child is different, Silence once again ticks to the beat of expectations, With no clear directions However, Emotions are kicking