more conduit than magician

aching toward wholenesses

I love to create meaning with words:

letters morph into strings,

and strings knot themselves with other strings

and somehow construct scaffolds,

scaffolds that ache for wholenesses of thought and feeling,

intimations of what might be

if order can coalesce from out of the primal ether,

in the beginning was the Word

and we who write dare to remember creation

every time we leave the formless to find form,

it always feels like a conjuring whenever it works,

and we who write are more conduit than magician.

by Henry H. Walker

November 5, ‘15