All the soarings of my mind begin in my blood.
~ Rainer Maria Rilke
Poetry courses through my veins,
dances in my heart and pours
onto the page before me.
Always, it surprises me,
the way what is lived is translated
inside my body, almost page perfect
sometimes. If not for my minds
ability to receive this poetry,
it would pool, become stagnant
unless I moved it, moved my
body, mimed the dance
beating in my heart.
©2020
Joanne Young Elliott
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