The presumption of opening my journal
to write a poem:
I notice the rock,
an autumn character
who hurries between difficult languages.
Imagine the pattern
connecting two clouds
centimeters apart.
This season speaks with worry
knowing that Winter water is heavy and near.
I found this silent rock
and opened my journal to write
in the moonlight: my process protects me.
This presumption and experience say
little about my practice, but
much to my passion.
1 comment:
This is a poem I wrote out of writer's block desperation. I am trying to will myself to be inspired, which may be an act of inspiration in of itself. I am also working with cognitive dissonance, which seems to both prevent me from writing, and gives me something to write about. #UndiscoveredPoetry
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