Thursday, June 14, 2007


The Author
by Maureen Sevilla

"Where do you want to go?" he asked.

"What would you like to see?

Isn't there something you've wanted to do?

Or someone you've wanted to be?"

He wrote down impressions of far away places

Of wonder and sadness and sin.

He researched his thoughts for just the right word

To express where he'd already been.

He scoured the pages for just the right spot,

For just what he thought I'd need.

Then he turned to me and further impressed,

"... to open your inner seed?"

Bound here are possibilities.

Bound here are hopes and fears.

Bound here are endless dreams and seers

Unbound by type and tears.

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