All that has come before
Has prepared for this moment
How long, someone asks,
Does it take to write a poem
Poems and other creations
Are not written in
Minutes hours days
They are written in the
Cumulative moment which holds
All the time, the experience, that
Has preceded the now
It takes the compilation of years
The evolution of the mind
The deepening of the spirit
The expansion of the heart
The blood ink that gathers
In the well, in the pen,
At this particular point
To write this poem
It takes this and more
Don't forget the mystery
The gift of the poem
That shows up unintended
Uninvited but oh so welcome
Making us look to be
Far more than we are
Truth is
We don't write poems
They choose us as scribes
We hope to be worthy
Of their trust.
Christie Smith Stephens
April 11, 2011
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