.39) The Greatest Poem

The greatest poem is the one you're writing, sparks flying from your pen as from Vulcan's furnace, hand and arm lubricated and calibrated with a mind that's up on a ladder at its far end, hopefully receiving notes from an angel or two— fresh bread, Rumi called it, a little piece of Soul, 'out there' and sculpted to perfection... or near perfection, you see the next day as you fix a flaw that's appeared overnight, and a few more the day after that. Then the Life-force flows into a new creation, this one has hardened and is left to feed the birds, and some day when you've forgotten about it completely, you'll come upon it again, feel awed, and wonder, 'Who wrote that? '