He reads his words.

I listen to them,

Ponder them,

Then give feedback.

We discuss his artwork,

How he expresses himself,

And I try to tell him

How they affected me.

We part ways,

But I can still hear him

Reading his words.

In my mind,

They come to life.

I can feel them

See them and taste them.

Time passes, and I am tempted,

Tempted to give up, to stop,

But then I hear his words.

His expression becomes my drive,

My reason to keep going.

Through his voice, I can remember,

Remember why I am here and what

I can do.

Now I write words,

Words that are my own.

I will share them

So that others can ponder,

Can feel the power of sharing.

I pass along th hope

I have received from him

And believe that somehow,

Someone else will

Keep moving on.