This poem is from the November 6, 2012 Poetry Fishbowl. It was inspired by a prompt from
janetmiles. It has been sponsored by Anthony & Shirley Barrette.
How the Wordsmith Works
I am in my mind
a mosaic of metaphors.
I have been a spider in a web,
reading the trembling silk
for information about the world,
pulling strings to make things happen.
I have been the light
one warm fire on a cold dark night,
spark-dancing with the distant stars
and the mirror that reflects it
polished gleam of silver and glass
bouncing beams effortlessly along
and the lens that magnifies it
bending, twisting, concentrating
until the light remembers that it is fire.
I have been a stone in still water,
tossed into rippling splendor,
touching and touching distant shores.
I have been a weaver of words
woolgathering fluff into yarns
then threading together the social fabric
and a knapper of flint
whacking out words
like razor-sharp flakes
and a forger of steel
beating the meaning
until it tempers into truth.
With every breath of air,
I gather in ideas,
combine and refine them,
then send them off with a kiss
to find new minds to fill.
I am the wordsmith.
I work in touches and changes.