muse of the unread poet

he stares into the quiet,
an unread poet musing alone.
a errant phrase interrupts
the brush with silence.

faith and need compel him.
faith that scenes will form
and the need to create meaning.
otherwise, what's the point?

without words meaning is
shackled by quiet secrecy.
without faith words meander
unreconciled to meaning.

their constructions are limited
to the ordinary, rather than
unleashed to the extraordinary.
the poet unexpressed is no poet at all.

but the poet expressed may yet
become a poet read, staring
into the beauty around him,
creating with pen the worlds he sees.

18 May 2010 by Glen Alan Woods