St. Peter's Cathedral

A new feeling.


I have taken my little
poetry snowglobe,
which had settled and settled 
into a comfortable rhythm.


And I shook it and shook it
into a flurry.


I have new things.
New ways to work.
New material.


New.


And I have rarely experienced
a feeling akin to this.
It's like unwrapping 
the greatest present to
ever exist,
or akin to winning the lottery.


My stomach is throwing confetti
and high-fiving my other organs.


I have written something
I know is good.
Someone from somewhere else
could pick it up
and might say
"that was a very lovely poem."


I feel it in the coil of my limbs
as I type. I feel it in my spine.
Know I am making the right words.


I am making NEW.


I shake with the feeling,
the rush of good thoughts.


I am writing well,
I am doing good.


Wow,
this exhilaration
of good writing.


I have never been
more proud of two pieces
of work, ever.