There is a bittersweet irony in discovering that I am no longer the poet I thought I was. I have transcended the need for validation from a community. I revel in being an individual. It has been inside of me from the day I put the first word on a sheet of paper with a green crayon.
Poetic rebirth where the words speak for themselves, the characters share their views, and I have become an observer recording their journeys rather than a master dictating their experiences is beyond epiphany.