In verse I will pour out
Vicarious memories
Things felt to keenly for the historian's art -
Here I will find solace
From cold objectivity,
And I will speak freely from my inner heart

I am forced to the page
When I am left winded
When generations ago feel like just yesterday
When I feel I could travel
To years long since ended,
And the duty o'ertakes me with something to say

In verse I may safely
Indulge speculation -
Flesh out the bare bones of what might have been
Strap facts to the wings
Of my imagination,
Answer the "what ifs?" in a voice from within

How grand when I realized
The power it gives me -
To make people feel for long-dead fellow man
To bring life to the past,
Awake wonder and mystery
With my heart, and my mind, and the pen in my hand.