I think about writing a lot
I call it incubating but
I heard that somewhere 

A lot of what I think is borrowed
I fear I don’t know what I know
Yet, that also thrills me 

My life is simply a string of
unknowings and discovery
A ride – my hands up in air

It’s better this way – open 
Even if I fall, I’ll greet death
Arms wide, wearing a smile

You see, I don’t just want to be
I don’t want to do or have
I don’t even want to say

I want to animate and enliven
I want to write philosophies that
read as poetry off salivating tongues

I want to set free, as I have been
Encourage, despite everything 
Finding how to be, working to be it