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A MUSING WRITER WRITES

Sitting at the keyboard waiting for my brain to light up.
Suddenly all my systems turn green. Now I can go
As fast as thought limits allow. No breaks now. Bow
Before the Maker of your own creativity
And be as thankful as you can be
For not everyone fulfills, to the best
Of their ability, the honesty of living
As though their minds were truly free.
As for me, I haven’t decided yet whether
I am impelled, compelled, expelled, enspelled,
Or otherwise knelled to a fare-thee-well.
Still I can tell the truth about late night writing,
If you just let it flow, it can be exciting.

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