When inspired by new horizons
and not pressed to flirt with time.
When lured by laureate prizes,
yielding goldmines from counterfeit dimes.
When chasing words across blanket pages
and giving white canvas a painting of prose.
When sitting still in blissful meditation
and never too concerned with counting woes.
I wrote thousands of words for the ages,
most certain they’d withstand all of time.
Because, I wrote for the fools and the sages,
forgetting I swallow the words that are mine.