Doubt It’s doubt or concern that words will not come or, if they do, won’t find the knowing that sparked the start That feeling of heh not there, not yet Walk away, go outside inhale moist air let the lines brew Once begun, the poem has a life independent What must it say? get you out of the way? It feels pressure hands off let it chill day week year But today, pick it up— words carve their path through dense blooming broom
And words can fall like manna from heaven so that we can gingerly pick them up.
with tender care and gratefulness!
yes!
Beautiful, Amrita.
Thanks for the sweet words to begin my day.
Thank you! Are you Joyce or Beth?