my meticulous mind along with the aid of this unsympathetic
pen
speaks fluently to this page about all that is wrong
from deep within
and it trustingly goes through a ritual over and over
again
sometimes the soul needs an added reminder
a mental chuck up under the chin
to get me back on track and familiar with the riches
found in one's tenderest feelings so true
I study the loose pages left in my possession to ascertain
which way the wind blew
sometimes such intense self questioning is the hardest of all
impossible things to do
emotions change their rhythms of intensity so quickly
that their appearance is deceiving to their own
actual hue
I can only hope as I sit and gaze in absolute wonder
that the evasive feelings will escalate to a grander
scale of poetic peace and not manage to drag me deeper
under
the writer trapped inside me is dying by minuscule degrees
for the form of self expression out of which she
desperately needs
this is just too grim to be believed
that's not so
the other I in me irritably disagreed.............
(written March 28, 1992 pm)