The Poem

Find a place where you can be alone, turn down the volume. Wait. Go through the rituals, perhaps recall a phrase that has been playing on the mind, shadows cast by a mood, the taste of lips still sweet from long ago, the leftovers from a hurt. Listen quietly. Don't move. Soon it will begin to speak. Give it room to wander the page, to take whatever it needs from your memory, your heart. Feel it rub a nerve and rummage the dictionary of the head. Let some inner drum gently beat a rhythm to time the music of the words. Treat whoever it is as an honored guest. Give of yourself. When it goes, it will leave you a precious gift. Pick it up, feel its heartbeat, read what it has to say. Hold it close for awhile with all of its imperfections and faults as if it's a child of your soul. Give it a name. Then, you will have to let it go.