I feel a moment

Pass me by,

The little things

That make me try.

I watch it 

As it floats away from me,

And I wonder

If I'm the only one who sees.

I try to define it

But, as always, I fail,

For I am not a poet

Or a a teller of tales.

I am not a writer,

Or a singer of songs,

I cannot capture moments

Like a truthman captures wrongs.

But I still try to define it,

For it is a part of me,

This itty bitty moment,

In which I hold a key.

A key to truth,

A key to time,

A key to rythm,

A key to rhyme.

For in this single moment

That I hold within my grasp,

The words are flowing out of me,

Like a river from the past.

And for once I can do anything,

For once I'm not a fraud,

No, in this moment I'm a writer,

And that makes me a God.