The Prize

The Prize

by Elizabeth Challinor

Gone!

All of it!

Just like that!

Inspiration on strike.

I won’t write

For a poetry prize!

Then choose a poem from your site

Take it down

No!

I can’t abort a poem

But this is such an opportunity

How can let you let it pass?

It’s not for me to say, my friend

Words aren’t even mine

They tease like a hopping sparrow

I tiptoe hesitantly following its trail…

Suddenly they flow

Or pierce like an arrow

My soul seeks not to impress

Only to express

Inner stirrings

Flutters of emotion

Feeling for their thoughts

It’s an ongoing negotiation

Emotions tell me when I have gone astray

And I’ll stay up all night

To get back on their track

There is no greater joy

When you become the flow

A humble channel

A glowing vessel

A smiling canvass

For oceans of emotions

Shining their truths

Brightening up the sky

With moons, suns, stars

Casting healing shimmers

On warts, wounds, and scars

Celebrational lights

On the wonders of life

To write, my friend

Is the prize

Elizabeth Challinor