Saturday, January 24, 2009


Sometimes the world opens.
It says yes.
Or maybe it just says nothing.
A blank white screen with blinking cursor.
The sun's warmth upon a turned corner.


Allowing words, allowing steps, allowing thought.
The poet's canvas.

And if the world is silent...we ask.
Our creation: a mere question,
Dialogue between the created and its creator.
Ask before the world closes.
Ask. Ask. Ask.
Before the screen goes dark and the sun dips behind the building
Or before the clanging.
Before pain, before duty, before the quickening steps,
Ask when the world opens.

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