In Fragments

In fragments:

it comes in fragments, each word and then to phrase - yet always they belong to some whole idea, an inspiration giving itself away in measured terms. My role is patience, listening, and to arrange what's heard within the framework of page and theme. It's without true effort, just a joyful response to an inner call urging for expression. 

it mostly happens on its own. 

in the beginning it often seems random, just a few words and not yet a direction known. It's playful, trading space for words in any manner that inspires. The meaning is always the same no matter what the theme may be - that words come from mystery, not delivered but revealed as my own voice as well. It's all mystery and grace, one thing in various expression, and for now it's my own sense of being the author that claims this as my own. 

but I know better. 

there's is no true author, only inspiration, life as poetry itself and my own particular, unique voice to express this moment. It's a gift, but not my gift. Life is what's giving, always in motion, waiting to be heard and seen above the din and illusions of our busy world. We're all artist, of any sort, and all it takes is a pause - to recognize and remember that in it comes in fragments, ideas belonging to the whole, and that this wholeness too is our belonging. 

it's all art, really, life - just waiting to be revealed. 

~

Peace, Eric