I don’t know what happened to it
That poem I was going to write
Instead of trickling through my pen
It slipped into my soul, out of sight
I tried to coax it out with words
Like bribing a puppy with a treat
Yet it was not a puppy, but an elusive elf
It danced away shyly on soundless feet.
And now I live each sacred day
With a purple poem tucked in my soul;
Glimmering, changing, throbbing, alive
Aching, calling, bleeding and full.