compelled as ever

“compelled as ever”

I write because I must-
because the hour arrives unbidden
and yet expects to be received.

There is a kind of trembling in it,
a soft urgency,
as though the words themselves
have travelled far
and would be wounded
to find the door closed.

And so I open it.

I take up the pen
not out of pride,
nor even out of confidence,
but because something in me
would feel strangely unmade
if I turned away
from what has come.

The poem insists.
The moment insists.
And I-
I simply answer,
as I have always done,
grateful that the Muse
still knows my name.

.

Reviews

[Lorry]

It is almost impossible to explain the compulsion to write for a writer, no matter how talented they are, but you have done admirably here with the feeling from within and out with us all to pen what a feeling that is.
Even with the last line of being grateful the museum still knows your name speaks to us all no matter how strong or weak that connection feels to her at varying times of our lives.
Sometimes I feel she is my soul mate and other times I wonder if she is an ex I forgot that I took a restraining orfer out on, but I too am grateful she knows my name.

[redd Brick Keshner]

Indeed, Lorry, and that is such a lovely image about the soulmate and superlatively delicious image of the restraining order!

[BuzzyB]

This is me. Everyone who writes will feel it. I get it totally. And I love to relate.

[redd Brick Keshner]

Thanks kindly, Buzzybee🕊️🙏🏻

[Curly Grace]

A beautifully gentle piece. I love how you capture the quiet inevitability of creation, that soft urgency, that humble willingness to answer when the moment calls. The closing gratitude to the Muse lingers in such a tender way. Lovely work.

[redd Brick Keshner]

Thanks, Sarah. Your apt observation has accurately encapsulated the heart of the poem. 🕊️🙏🏻