Wednesday, May 31, 2006

Sit, and wait for the words to come

   Blank is my mind
         like the bright white of a clean sheet of printer paper

         of thoughts
         of words
         of feeling
         of action or reaction
                  opinion or observation

And yet, the rhythm of those unspoken
                                                         unthought-of words

         courses through my entire being,
         like a train speeding down endless miles of railroad track to the
                  rhythm of its own engine

Where the words have gone - I don't know.

         But I take comfort in knowing that the poem will be waiting
                  when I find them.

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