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| Topic: Pushing | |
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I’ve never mastered poetry,
though I’ve written hundreds. The keys click, click again like a street mime pushing, pushing, pushing the wall and then some more. There’s resolution, even initial satisfaction, but the wall is still there, and the stones of the last poem turn to dust and blow away. |
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I would consider you a master of emotions and writing and all things poetry. You breathe the essence of it as it spills forth beautifully from your mouth.
 
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To master it is to be so perfect there is no use to try again. To feel what comes from the heart is and unending emotion that leaves us coming back for more.
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