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
