Writing the Unseen

 

 

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I cannot see the God-force that leads me to write words,

but It surrounds me like the air, compelling me

to breathe in and exhale-strong—like filling a glass

with water, emptying it, then fitting more in.

 

Earth gives and takes through its living appendages. 

Married to air, earth rises through it.  Which part of 

the whole leads me?  Who witnesses? Anyone?

My friends say they see clear-eyed engagement. Action.

 

Yet I am free to say no, I won’t do this thing.

I don't like to write.  But how can I not? Writing 

pulls, and therefore something would be lost if I quit.

Somewhere I know the answer to what would be lost.

 

I partly know.  I sit at the keyboard and wait

for the first word.  The rest follows, as if the first

gesture turns on the tap.  Inhale.  Exhale.  Exhale

again.  Somewhere is the message for a someone.

 

I give it time.  Where water runs, I wait, be it

storm, sea, ocean, a stream, an indoor leak, a tap.

I breathe.  I wait.  As words float up I reach for them.

So many words.  So many pages in the dark.

 

 

 My blog poems are rough drafts.

Please respect my copyright.

© 2023 Susan L. Chast