My Last, Last Poem Poem by Chris Embrick

When I think I've written my last poem
and penned the thoughts I had in mind
I scarce can make it to the end
before I hear another rhyme

Each poet must find that sacred stream
dip pen into the waters flow
and in the rush the mind supplies
allow the thoughts you find to grow

From the mind's unconscious fountain
we leave the world we know behind
and often in our meditations
travel past and future times

And as each mystery comes unraveled
and heart and soul are both ablaze
soul light shows us the road to travel
until at the end we sit amazed

The words we've written may seem foreign
through memories storehouse, treasure gleaned
and knowing more we share the wisdom
then dive once more into the stream.