All I ever wanted was to
Make my words skim with grace
Across the pages…
Like Gene Kelly-smooth of throat and
In the middle of a downpour.
I knew, after all, my body could not
Cooperate in that fashion.
My voice was too often smallish and strange.
Only in text could I ever hope for
Only in the threading of phrases
Could I ever find
My own way of
Singin’ in the rain.
Now, there were those who tried to change it.
Some who felt the need to remake it,
Fiddling with the drape of my trench,
Or even to take it away,
Tut-tutting my lack of umbrella,
Smirking over my lack of balance…
But there is something about the
Fierceness of the heart’s desire…
It reinvents its own cobblestone stage,
Emerges glistening and wet,
Streets once again all set,
Ready for my pen to dance