what a poet seeks is stillness
not in his external life
where kids may run around
radios play
politicians bray
but stillness
in his being
a quiet place
in his mental living
(forgive me, ladies, that may apply to you too)
stillness
where words can form
and play
and settle into new patterns
new meanings
and he may stare at them
or write them down
and be the first to wonder at them
then share them
and wonder again
at how what looked like rocks and bricks to him
turn into sand and flower petals
in the wind that swirls around him
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