a descent into poetry insanity |
I started riding my dragon so many years ago that all I remember is his fire, his scales, his wings catching the air and lifting me up or plummeting —until I can barely breathe in the rush to write it all. we are a pair— me defining our destination, my dragon bathing my heels in fire— so that I rush to it, finding that the horizon I saw when I started, has another horizon beyond that. there is no ending. no time to put down my pen, lay me down, and sleep. not when there are new paths to explore, new treasures to horde, new words to write. When I started writing this, I was trying to think about endings. I've had a major ending this month--my thesis is defended, my comps are finished, my paperwork is in, my thesis has gone through a last spot check by the graduate school and they should approve it for electronic distribution, soon. But as I thought about that, I immediately started thinking about the next step, the next goal. I rarely give myself time to stop and appreciate something finished. I always want to be working towards something else, something new. So, that's where this one came from. |