The Absence of Wavelength

Like the Poet

Does every word
Every line
Each poem contain
Earth shattering
Eye opening
Heart skipping
Baubles of Experience
We must clutch
Never put down
Because
It escapes
         Fades   into   oblivion
With the next
And the next
And another
We pile on
The writer's words
Like pseudo-life
Altered dimension
We pass through
Again and again
         We   breathe
         Another life
         As words   mesh
         Thoughts   coalesce
         Yes, but
Not ours unless
Empathy,
Experience
Do we even
Breathe the same
Air, inhale
With same lust
Or wish
We could just
Write
Like
The
Poet
         Dreams ?


It started off as a poem about tough love for a sick daughter who doesn't need to miss a third day of school, and how I must administer this medicine without invoking her resentment. Never easy.
Steps back to look. Yeah, not the vision. Maybe, another.

Edit later.