Fellow writers can relate: there's something that happens when I write. Each wave of the fountain pen...each impress of the keyboard letters feels like a stroke of genius—or, at the very least, the possibility of genius. Delusions of grandeur, or ambitious confidence, or the cusp of innovation—whatever it is, it's that feeling that keeps me going.
Less words are best, and I think I describe things succinctly in a poem I wrote October 3, 2006.
"Silken Grace"
The rhymes are water flowing
The pencil wears like silk.
Never telling, only showing
Words you drink like milk.
My eager mouth overflows
With a curious liquid grace.
I follow where the river goes,
And never stop to erase.