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.

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