The Poem

If a poem
doesn’t speak

to you, move
on to the next.

I write of trees
and oceans,

My heart is
in the text.

I’m not sure
where it comes from.

I’m pushed from
inside out.

A primal intervention,
I really would not doubt.

But somewhere deep inside,
I feel some other force.

Like pearls along the tide,
the poem takes it’s course.

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