The Poems

The Poems January 16, 2012

When starting out, I was so excited

that anything showed up, I thought

I was done. But somewhere along

the way, I realized they are alive

and I wasn’t wrestling them into

view. They, respecting my effort,

agreed to be seen. Not to be re-

vealed, but to be loved. Now I

circle back in the morning to see

what they need from me. Just more

of my attention which starts with me

undressing what I know. For the

longest time I thought I was revising.

It’s more a conversation in which I

keep learning how to listen. And

when I do, they will after a time

pull aside a cloth or cloud to make

obvious the reason they have come.

"that made me laugh. his own wound ruined his momentff.LAURENS.CLUB\v5963pw"

Imparting Bliss
"Monet was nearsighted and painted what he saw."

Stacks of Wheat
"It just happen many in Hebron went to the burial place for Sarah this weekend ..."


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