They come

Unannounced but welcome.

Surfacing from labyrinthine subterranean receptacles,

From a tortured trickle, eking out a word at a time,

To a tumultous torrent of passages

Twisting, turning, taking a shape of their own.

An impatient outpouring,

Awaiting their turn to be crafted to fineness.

How, I know not,

But they come.

And grateful am I for them.


  1. Cogito ergo sum. Beautifully written. One can almost feel the music of thoughts in your poetry. As Rumi said “who am I standing amidst all this thought traffic”

    Liked by 1 person


  2. oh yeah, sounds a lot like my “question…” piece. You give them more “life” i think than i do, not that that matters all that much – just a difference in style/approach. i like this- you gotta keep writing!

    Liked by 1 person


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