Originally posted 10/30/2009.
I think of what I won’t finish
and break a little.
It’s a form
of grief I’m feeling,
akin perhaps
to imagining clouds
meant to bring rain
that will never even form.
This work would have been
the nearly perfected explanation
of me;
it might have even
engendered
some kind of forgiveness:
yes, it is a form of grief I am feeling.
Someone will do it
because it will need doing.
Because they’ll know the need for it.
Because my name is unimportant to the doing
as long as it’s done.
This is also a form of relief
I am feeling.
Dark Matter 
November 23rd, 2014 at 10:50 pm
“This work would have been the nearly perfected explanation of me……”
“Because my name is unimportant to the doing, as long as it’s done……..”
.
This resonates: all the real….the hard won….the dark…..the painful….the love….the “ah ha!” s unexpressed……unrecognized…… never becoming seed scattered on rock or good soil or anything else.
And yes, ultimately it doesn’t matter who spreads it ……. the universe is chock full of sowers……..nothing will live or die with just me.
but………somehow I need to hear it by expressing it….. output integrates input……….and there are hybrids waiting to be born in me…….
I want to recognize them before I die……………………….
As so often you speak to where I struggle……thanks.
November 18th, 2014 at 5:35 am
“I learned never to empty the well of my writing, but always to stop when there was still something there in the deep part of the well, and let it refill at night from the springs that fed it.” – Ernest Hemingway
As for me, I shall take his word for it! Over the summer I had an ‘affair’ with the master and wrote a poem which I posted yesterday on one of my blogs…
http://poetryphotosandmusingsohmy.wordpress.com 😉