After the poem, comes an emptiness,
a missed opportunity, a haunting plea --
what have you
done for me lately?
Emptiness, the
Source of poetry;
the ache for God
the empowerment
of every word.
Consult your
dictionary – sources
and derivatives,
metaphors and similes,
colloquialisms and
dialects –
all spellbinding
and apropos. I can’t keep writing
forever and what
would it mean?
Redemption is not
contained in words.
This poem –
another brief
and partial
realization –
to write it down
is to lose it –
unreal when put
into rhyme
but, that’s the
job I’ve been given
to save my
soul. And this seems like the end
of the poem, so what
to do now?
The hunger’s
still there.
O child of God,
be grateful for that hunger.
It will one day
lead you to God.
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