the inchoate within, finds form
I wonder if everybody is always trying to figure things out,
I mostly notice what I’ve been working on figuring
when a hint comes to me of a poem I might essay forth,
just like it did with this one,
I start to write
and then ideas cascade upon the page,
ideas I didn’t quite notice I’d been having,
ideas that had not quite come to fruition
till I wrote them,
the words upon the page
almost pull the thoughts into being in my mind,
writing like language itself
a partner with which the inchoate within us
can find, know, and express itself.
by Henry H. Walker
January 31, ‘16
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