It is easier to gnaw through bone. Than the hide of the heart.
I try. I am trying. I was trying. I will try. I shall in the meantime try. I sometimes have tried. I shall still by that time be trying.
Who creates unless he has a vacuum to fill?
Words - as I speak or write them - make a path on which I walk.
Poetry is road maintenance for a fragmented world which seeks to be kept together. It's been an integral activity for a long time.
The word is important in Native American tradition. You speak the path on which you walk. Your words make the trail.