WHAT CALLS LOOMS QUIETLY

Big things loom,
winding patterns and templates,
colors and broad ideas.

Politics. Revolution. Hunger. War.

Others call:

“Tackle things before one,
not heart-stroking screams
of the street,
or bricks in the head,
remnants of broken structures of dead love,
but here, on the table,
underneath that pile of books
set into order of which is
to be read first.

That effort, that attempt sires
sacred flames which burn
and stay warm after the herds
have passed,

Let it burn on the desk a bit more,
the token scratch, the carefully excised and cut
notebook sheet scribbled on.

Stoke it gently.

Remind yourself of its heat.

We can wait.”

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2 thoughts on “WHAT CALLS LOOMS QUIETLY

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