Blurred Edges

The soft space between
allures me,
eludes me.

Yet I wait
not quite breathless
for a wave
to arise,
for creativity to coalesce
from the stillness alive
before formation
of ordinary perception.

I practice.
I practice. 

Gently wondering toward the words
that want to voice
what’s underneath
the weather, the chores, the choosing what to eat for breakfast today.

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