the poet and the editor

emotion and imagination are abstractions enough

thinking something is not the same as saying it

and saying it is not the same as writing it down

whimsies don’t easily fit through needle eyes

but you, a poet, must empty your heart onto paper

regardless of the ease or difficulty of expression

writing is a compulsion you have to obey

a call you are forced to answer or deny yourself

wond’rous satisfaction comes as the end

—

but then you also have a drive for perfection

and must hone your writings until they

sparkle in the sunshine of the imagination

to turn editor upon your own creations

is like performing reconstructive surgery

without anesthetic on your firstborn child

you realize your words are not etched in stone

yet changing even a one is the worst torture

’til you learn that love sometimes requires pain