A Poet's Fever Poem by Lora Colon

What fires burn in this feverish mind!
And from the ashes spring ardent words,
Like the phoenix rising up to heaven
Leading flocks of diaphanous birds

Mimicking tides, my thoughts ebb and flow,
Ceaselessly, as those of the ocean,
Like one possessed, I surrender control,
Writing down every whim and notion

Fear and bravura hold grim parley
Over this coveted assignment,
First pondered by some remote entity,
Then passed on to me for refinement

Panic takes hold..... will my words endure
When inspiration's light fades to dark?
And those embers that Death has extinguished,
Surely, proof must remain of their spark!

My words cannot be held prisoners
In a box meant for mortal remains,
But rather, these poems I lovingly pen,
Must soar alongside heavenly strains

Dare I hope these words be remembered
Infinitely, as our God must be,
Bringing comfort and joy to burdened hearts,
Like a prayer recited faithfully

But as this long day comes to a close,
Morbid thoughts bring a portent of dread,
When Death's frost extinguishes these fires,
What mute verses will remain unsaid?