My soul vibrates Longing to be a conduit for creation The spark burns high and hot My hands long to be covered in Ink Paint Pastels To fill blank pages with worlds That only exist in the nebula inside me Demanding to birth a thousand stars Urgent and consuming I long to surrender to the deflagration Of creative energy Igniting a conflagration Leaving me empty and sated Surrounded by pages filled with words Dipped in vivid colors and Complex textures Tangible, living pieces of me Like so many falling leaves in autumn