Words come
Through sources unbidden
Through sources unbidden
Not intended
For me alone
I write them
Or not
Written
Words yearn for readers
Unwritten
Hollows my spirit
I live in the yearning
Or hide in the hollows
Living in abandon
Kashgar
Xinjiang Province, China
Taken during travels, 1998
I should acknowledge a couple muses: Heath Muchena’s‘s poem, why write? and Ben Truesdale‘s poem Words Come (for blog — On the Heath — I of July).
It was as I read Heath’s that words began to come. But I’d read Ben’s earlier, and its opening line was lodged in my unconscious. This poem was well underway when I realized I’d absconded with a couple of his words.
No matter, I suppose. As this poem observes, the words were intended for you, the reader, not for us.