Quilt
On the Act of Poetry
All of these small awakenings.
Seeking for structure, yet driven
by vague desperation.
Every small step inside an echoless chasm.
Somehow it must be enough.
Some how creates some why
at the beginning of the sentence
as the answer anticipates the question.
Mind engine seeks to resolve
discrepancies in the pattern.
It is a quilt of white thread, white squares,
white needles, white hands.
Entering into creation,
the act is the art itself.
One breath, one thought, one moment,
one movement, one word.
Here is the growing tapestry.
Here is the field of meaning.
All of the nothing is everything,
and all of the everything is gone.
— New Orleans, Winter 2022