Where can it be drawn from
if not from the soul force
of the individual
inimitable
transcendent,
a shiny silver coin
that pricks at our deepest dreams
insistent and unyielding,
demanding release
though not made free
until its own time
the birthing,
deep into rich, dark, fertile soil
smell of leaves, earth
lightning and thunder crack
an idea with an attitude
it carries you
so that you may stand
where you have never been
from a great height
holding it high
illumination as with torchlight,
into the fond remembrance of generations.