happy surprise

I came to our blog this morning just to see if anyone posted anything--I was so happy to see you guys had.

Will someone post a poem they're working on?

Some thoughts by Boris Pasternak

No genuine book has a first page. Like the rustling of a forest, it is begotten God knows where, and it grows and it rolls, arousing the dense wilds of the forest until suddenly, in the very darkest, most stunned and panicked moment, it rolls to its end and begins to speak with all the treetops at once.
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By its inborn faculty of hearing, poetry seeks out the melody of nature amid the tumult of the dictionary, and then, picking it up as one picks up a tune, abandons itself to improvisation upon that theme....

As it weaves its fantasies, poetry stumbles across nature. The live, real world is the only project of the imagination, which, having once succeeded, goes on forever, endlessly succeeding. Look at it continuing, moment after moment a success. It is still real, still deep, absorbing, fascinating. It is not something you'll be disappointed in next morning. For the poet it is an example, even more than a model or pattern.

(from The Poet's Work, ed. Reginald Gibbons)

Check it out

So Cool