A Slightly Different Explanation

A slightly different explanation
Dawned on her as she tried
To unravel this mystery
Concerning a book, a man, and an odd-looking pen.
There was something she had overlooked:
An avoidable error, 
But soon remedied.
She searched and scanned the papers,
The reports,
The confessions
Of all who had been involved.
Aha! Here it was,
A rather clumsy translation
Of an oft-quoted origin,
But in essence the same meaning.
The testimony of the man
(not quite the freedom fighter they had imagined him to be),
Scrawled across the paper
In nearly illegible writing:
I, the Discoverer, hereby state
And testify that the ancient Text
Which I had found on a chance of Fate
Is one which ought not to be read
Until it is the only option.
It was this statement which had
Caught her off-guard, but now
She thought she saw it-
Just a glimmer of a hope, really-
But within contained all possible
Surety of the future.
Her supervisor had questioned
It, and reasonably so- 
The testimony seemed a bit too
Far-fetched, "lacking force of the usual form,"
As she had observed.
And perhaps she was right.
Perhaps all it was-
All this fuss-
Perhaps it was all just
Complete twaddle.

Under the Spotlight

There's something about it
That spotlight shining down
So bright, so hot
Underneath its ceaseless gaze
And yet so thrilling,
Exhilarating, even;
When your heart beats
A thousand miles a second
And you feel as though
You could run far and wide
Beyond all limitations
And you can't help but smile
With all your teeth exposed,
Pearly white incisors gleaming
In that spotlight shining down
And you can't contain this energy
(There's far too much to handle)
But when the lights fade down
And you know where to go
And the music starts to play
And you take a deep breath
Before the world shall see
Everything you've done
And worked tirelessly on
For what seems like forever
And the lights come up
And you put on that smiling face
Glowing with anticipation
And excitement
And anxiety-
There's something about it
That spotlight shining down
So blinding, so stimulating
Beneath its constant stare
And, quite simply,
I'm nearly at a loss for words
For nothing can truly compare
With that spotlight shining down.

Progression

Once in a desert vast
Where no man or beast could dwell,
A small shoot sprang forth
Among the coarse and grainy well.

Years did pass, and soon the small,
Tiny seedling bloomed
Into a tall and beautiful plant
With boughs laden with leaf plumes.

But soon the sun shone forth her light
And the life was taken from the root
Of that seedling full of hope
That had yet to bear its fruit.

To this day the desert bare
Retains no memory of the growth
That quickly came and quickly went
Back to its home in the mother earth.

The Tale of Lisa Clays

Lisa Clays sat

in the midst of a lilac grove

pondering the puzzle

of pi.

As of late,

she had been thinking

when her thoughts stumbled

upon what pi really was.

She wandered

over to her favorite place,

the lilac grove,

and sat on her

favorite bench

and wrote her thoughts

in her favorite notebook.

Lisa sat for hours

and hours

and hours,

but she just couldn't

unravel the mystery

that so unwillingly

sang its secrets.

For many more hours

and hours after those,

Lisa and pi

were at an impasse.

Lisa took a deep

breath full of the

sweet lilac

perfume,

lay down on the ground

with her notebook

next to her,

and took a nap.

Haiku

The sun dawned brightly
And light fled into my room.
When I woke, it rained.

Miracle

A tiny seedling

so small,

barely the size

of my fingernail,

so fragile,

easily fractured,

yet when planted

in good ground,

nourished properly,

with enough

water

and sun

and tender care,

can become 

something wonderful,

something beautiful,

something spectacular.

A miracle

that began

with nothing

but

a hope.

Frustration

It's bottled up
inside
almost ready
to explode
The pressure
is building up
and
you don't know
what will be left.
The bubbles are
frothing at
the surface,
popping
and
fizzing
in an almost menacing
manner.
You begin to shake
from all the
intensity,
not sure if
it's them
or you
that makes you
feel this way.
Soon you will
have to let
it go
and splatter
all over
their faces
in a huge mess
of
frustration.