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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=459740" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>On Not Writing a Poem</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">and sometimes I’m sitting, quiet, <br>wondering whether a poem somewhere<br>would like to speak through me<br>and it doesn’t</div><div style="margin:10px 0">but the stillness as I wait -<br>that’s good.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Then just occasionally, when<br>I’m not visited by a poem, <br>I visit – without planning - Poetry.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">It’s a place without a name<br>where many things meet: <br>there’s space, and hope, <br>and possibility, and, out of the present, <br>a future growing..<br>and something that’s not less, or<br>not less bright, than gold; </div><div style="margin:10px 0">where all the poems that have been written<br>mix on friendly terms with those<br>that are yet to come; </div><div style="margin:10px 0">with a sense of company, humanity, <br>very undemanding, and what Pooh Bear<br>would call, Everybody Listening…</div><div style="margin:10px 0">and there’s no claim, no need<br>to write about I Was There<br>and Experienced This, and do you wish<br>you had too, and here’s my name<br>so modestly after a line space</div><div style="margin:10px 0">and it’s very refreshing, even <br>reassuring in its way. Maybe<br>if we were back in, oh, Greek times? <br>I would wash, put on a white robe, <br>take a sweet cake, some oil, some wine, an olive branch, </div><div style="margin:10px 0">walk slowly up to the temple, <br>tap the road dust off my sandals, <br>then between the cool pillars, <br>place the offering at the feet<br>of the golden goddess; silent<br>somewhere between thanks<br>and praise and the place called prayer; </div><div style="margin:10px 0">and then I’d return home, peaceful<br>as if blessed. A more poetic image? Perhaps<br>it’s the same place: the mind<br>was there, the body’s here.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">It’s good. You were there too.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Michael+Shepherd">Michael Shepherd</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=459740" data-title="On Not Writing a Poem de Michael Shepherd" data-description="and sometimes I’m sitting, quiet, 
wondering whether a poem somewhere
would like to speak through me
and it doesn’t

but the stillness as I wait -
that’s good.

Then just occasionally, when
I’m not visited by a poem, 
I visit – without p..."></div>
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