I restarted Eric Maisel's The Creativity Book two weeks ago. One of the exercises for this week is to "Settle into mystery" and to do that, I am to write a poem a day for three days. Sure, I could write them and file them away in my laptop. But that's one of the problems I'm trying to address - the confidence to publish. Before my inner critic can talk me out of it, I send one raw and first draftish poem out into the everlasting world of the internet.
I don't know enough about physics
or the natural world
to say where this energy comes from.
I only know that I can feel the pull
when you are here
And when you are gone there is none.
You are a mass, a gravitational pull
At worst, a black hole
I’ve tried to balance too long.
When you are gone I move along
I have found the center
of my own universe. It is me.