An accomplished writer. . .
How do you become one?
Number is the count.
That's the measure.
Number of words that you wrote.
And how easily you float
Around with words as your wind
How much do you open your wings.
Songs of pain, And ballads of love,
Stories of war and joy of return,
All, so many. . .and just one.
But if only just one soul you pierced through,
If only just one piece you held,
Of that shattered entity which bled,
You are then that accomplished writer
My friend, you are then that poet,
Who, by the passing moment, be known.
And you know,
It is just this moment that IS.