I wrote a poem
it held a big idea in it
and it presented itself
en mas, an image
visceral in essence
and complicated in words
and when I put a pen to it
it landed at my feet
way too quickly
with intuitive leaps
larger than my mental canyon
and even though I thought
I could guide it
- and others to it –
it ran too far ahead of me
and the words I needed to use
to explore the vast terrain
of empathy
not pity
fell over flat and contradictory
though the pen tried all the same
and those who listened with their hearts
said how beautiful, and those who listened
with their mind said you lost me
