What if, after a morning’s hard writing
You sat and emptied your mind of all that residual clutter
And took a moment to write what looks like
A poem.
It doesn’t have to be a poem. Poems are hard
Like diamonds or sweaty labor in the hot sun.
What if you just freed your mind and asked God
Or if you don’t believe in God anymore
then just words
To do their work—and tell you in absolute honesty
What needs to be said.
Right now.
Right here.
What visitor would come?
