Sometimes I scratch my head,
but then I realize that there is a certain blindness
rampant in the process of finding.
And I concede to the fact that only crazies
attempt the unreasonable and come up with results.
Other times I tap my fingers as if
a string of beings will parade up out of the depths
of the reservoir of my repertoire.
And I think there is no way to reach
even the most possible of impossibilities.
But it’s the times that I disappear,
whirling among the dust particles by the window,
that I realize I’ve manifested the very thing
I thought I had only dreamed.
I had only forgotten how to see.
© Hannah Walleser
Ars Poetica
Posted by HEW
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1 comments:
HEW said... April 27, 2010 at 8:49 PM
Ars Poetica poem - the art of poetry - without using the words poetry, writing, etc.
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