Some of you may have seen today's poem before.
It even made a guest appearance on "Squiggles & Giggles" ... my then-weekly ... free, mind you, free... e-mailed newsletter about writing ... and a multitude of other subjects.
But that ended long ago.
Meanwhile ... I'm always a little surprised ... on the verge of amazed ... at the amount of discussion this little poem fires up. It did that on the newsletter ...
But none of those ugly fights in the parking lot afterward. I'm glad for that.
Today I was thinking about what I had said about this little poem once before:
When we strip away the outer trimmings, the pretense, the spins which have become the standard of the day, what do we have left?
And I like that. Writing, with a few exceptions, is certainly not for the money. Not really.
That's true, even with those who write for pay.
They ... and we ... write because we must.
Because we're looking for a truth ... THE TRUTH, perhaps.
For now, the poem:
BECAUSE WE MUST
A voice whispers
and we listen.
Again. We answer,
more rapidly now,
with paper and pen.
because we must.
No ear may hear
our stories, nor
voice answer our
and still we write.
Because we must.
(originally published in PKA's Advocate)
Today's word: impelled