i of nothing, a poet without a home,
an i in the lowest case,
barely breathing on my own,
waiting for the world to come to me,
a floor suspended in the air,
broken loose from all authority,
a ship without a rudder,
a paddle, a leg, a mind, a will, a ploy,
a self made man alone in my pride,
a pen that writes and wanders on its own,
that lays at my feet
flattering and praising me,
a God with no other God above me,
a scholar too smart to go to school,
a genius looking back at me in the mirror,
a pride too fragile to hold against the wind,
but still an i in the lowest case.
 
But here stands I in my upper case,
a man who knows nothing,
a man who knows he knows nothing,
standing under a higher authority,
waiting for its intelligence to be released,
waiting to become a disciple, a servant,
a common man, an open mind, an apprentice,
an advocator of love to all the living,
a student learning how to find myself,
amazed at what I found,
a higher authority that forgave me
for what I came from,
the one who designated me a conduit
for the words he gave me to write down,
for I am nothing without him
as I stand here in my upper case
waiting for more words of his to write.

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Robert L. Martin
about 1 month

Thanx Nelson

Nelson D Reyes
about 1 month

Jenifer Crowder’s words come back to me:
“Fill those blank pages with words uncensored “.
From the nuances of poetry come the different shades of interpretations.
God’s words interpreted by his disciples and nonbelievers.

Thanks Robert. Like.

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