Back To The Pen!

It's good to reach out
In silent language,
In script - the linearization of thought.
But so self-conscious am I
In this reaching?
Yes.

Yet it need not ever be,
For, ofttimes when my passion
And my power to express it
Are equally matched
I do not write,
Nor think,
Nor reach,
But rather live my expression,
Breathe it.

Why is it not always the case
That will and way
Are blissfully bonded together?
Whence schism, and deliberateness,
And thought that knows itself?
Are these the artifacts of
Souls out of their element
Like hippos on dry land?

One day
When this unity occurs
We shall find
Every motive, pure;
Every deed, praiseworthy;
Every writing, worth remembering;
And every uttered word become
In the very speaking
A thoughtful poem of its own.