serendipity


as a poet you must live

by your own terms

write poems

not by instruction

boxed in a beige classroom

but in the open air

whether urban or rural

 

as a poet you must breathe

hard before inspiration arrives

but it cannot be forced

a sign must come

most likely as a familiar

bird who lands before you

and tilts its little dinosaur head

questioning your intent

because the right words

won’t come unless you mean them

 

as a poet you must rest

easy after a productive day

even if only a handful

of lines were birthed

even if it seemed

like serendipity

slipped away

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