sometimes i can feel it, building. usually, it's before a poetry intensive, i don't write. i just backbuild. like a storm on the prarie. you can see it for miles, that a storm is coming, but not there yet. when it does finally roll in, there is no mistaking it. the shift of winds, the brisk air swirling, making way for the rains. the long awaited rains.
that's how a poem feels to me when it comes.
and i just have to be patient, not chase it down and attempt some type of understanding. glimpse some of the horror. power can be devastating. and that is what i've learned of late, there are many types of power.
a conversation quickens in my mind, and i find myself in the middle of a poem.
now let's see if i can make it breathe
so you can see it too.
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