Young writer’s,
believe with your hearts
Baby birds
you are about to storm out
into a world…
That might not see you.
Will not know you.
You will be invisible.
Listen…
in all directions;
absorb the spoken,
slip into each tellers skin.
Hear…
what’s left unsaid,
such things can be
silent truths.
Watch…
with caution fledgling nights
of corn-stalk moons;
martyred truths,
and insanity’s logic.
Read the unwritten,
write the visible
for in tomorrow’s fray
your words…your truth
will be history.
—Debra J. Harmes Kurth