I Write Because
I write because I cannot find the words,
because my mind, so nimble when confronted
with the day to day challenge of conversation,
of solving everyday problems that fall like rain,
fails when faced with it's own heart.
And so I pause, and stare inward,
half in fear, half in anticipation,
always in a wonderment that defies math and logic,
and write unprovable poems of myth and truth.
The picture is a tulip in my back yard, taken a couple of springs ago. You can click on it to see a larger version.