She sits, looking out upon a field of green.
Seeing things, that often through the naked eye, remains unseen.
A writer, a poet, a dreamer of dreams.
Someone who knows that all is not exactly as it seems.
There is another world out there, one that often calls her.
To feel, to live, to breath, and it enthralls her.
A voice rises, one that she must heed.
Words form, shapes are drawn, the lines become a need.
To teach, to grow, to share a path
that she herself has walked.
To bring about a sense of peace that are not just words talked.
A butterfly, a bird, the wind, all will teach a lesson.
An open heart and open mind will render a sweet blessing.
It is a world that few would understand.
She invites all to come, join in and take her hand.
POMprompt #2 Tell Me About Why you Write