Creative Synapses

My creative synapses

will make sense to me

someday. They will not

sputter in chaotic release,

release, yes, but that utterance

of halting expression which I must tame and

strengthen to the core will

one day flow in order.

Ideas that I must now systematize

and pull and push into place,

stuffing into shape,

sand until the jagged edges shine.

And then, only then does  it become

a faint imagine in a dark room.

When the curse is lifted

and my body is weightless

without sin and death, my pathways

of praise will shoot

from once-crooked creative synapses made

straight. Every offering will be an

arrow of lightening speeding back

to the Creation king, whose name I

know,  and whose throne

is the only

place of interest in the universe.

©Bonnie Saul Wilks

Jerusalem

May 17, 2014