A Rising and a Reaching

I never think about what I will write
Nor wonder if I have something to say
It happens automatically at night
My poetry is not thought anyway
But a rising and a reaching toward the light

With practice I might get it right someday
Even though it will not mean anything
To those unwilling to meet me halfway
Though this is a very odd song I sing
Singing this song keeps me from going insane

My new book reached two hundred thousand on
That five million book list at Amazon
And I felt as pleased as with number one
My two hundred thousand book climb begun

(I never really tell anyone of
My book but I carry it with me with love)

This is my own truth my calling my thing
Which I hope you read and understand but
Though it is nice to come in from the rain
I simply have to do this: no matter what

+Steven Curtis Lance



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