I close my eyes
I breath in God
Inspiration fills me
Up to the brim
I am overflowing with it
Rejoicing in it
I close my eyes
I exhale God
The lack of breath
In my lungs
Seems to make me more mortal
More closer
To death
More dependent on my drug
God
I close my eyes once more
Then I let my new stock of inspiration
Take over my fingers
Telling them what to write
I do not know how it will turn out
I have no control
The product of my God given inspiration
Is alive
Moving
Growing
Evolving
It stops
My fingers stop writing
I look down
I don’t see a master piece
Nothing so grand
Or brilliant
Amazing
Right there at my finger tips
Is something much more
Subtle
Beautiful
I behold
My rough copy
My start