The words sit silent
Waiting to take a place
On a page, part of a sentence
A paragraph
Or just fill an empty space.

Never know what they are to be
Where they’re coming from
Placed upon the page
Uttered
From a pulpit
Graced by the shinning sun.

No matter, there they come
No longer waiting
The words have found their purpose
Their place, on a page, a paragraph
A voice
Greeting the morning sun.
~ Patrice

© Patrice Clarkson – 2015