Member Poem

The sounds of an early morning city,
they gather pace and energy and more,
it speaks to  me and I to it, there's hope,
somehow I can sense it not just now,
but as the day progresses and moves,
fiorward  into this catacylism  of life, 
cars, stallls, market places, shops,
in every way the town dwellers,
interact and engage, yet  I feel so,
drawn to it  and there may not,
be a word for it  but I have not yet,
a desire to search for those phrases,
I already  know in my heart deep,
down don't always need a voice when,
there is this genuine  connection,
as I stroll, walk, run, dash  and,
otherwise immersive myself now,
and always when I can be so,
active an actor dramatist without, 
really acting but following the rush,
of a dialogue that doesn't need,
a director, directions, signpost