Word Witch

Sometimes I fancy I am a passionate,  

intense incarnation. 

Other times I can not grasp the human plane. 

I create symbols, 

but am helpless to interpret them. 

Enchanted verses spill from my lips, 

What do they mean? 

What sorcery know I, 

or, what spell claims me? 

 

Poems startle me unless I birth them. 

Brilliantly stupid, 

Divinely oblivious. 

Discerning much for my people, 

slight, for myself. 

I do not begrudge this, 

I worship and embrace in their midst, 

but now and then,  

I wish I knew where I was. 

 

I am no martyr, 

for I revel in the power, 

eat it, drink it, make love with it, 

and would not be without it. 

The visionary who lives in her cave, 

seeing all, 

or seeing nothing, 

depending on the phase of the moon.