gotsimcha

Wednesday, August 17, 2011

Posted by gotsimcha at 7:50 PM

gotsimcha: One evening way back in my salad days ("green in judgment") I climbed a tree to commune with the full moon. An epiphany of sorts occurred, neither a vision nor a voice, just a burgeoning sense of purpose: it became clear that I am here to make poetry. What that came to mean to me was that there are worlds of progressively greater truth beyond this relatively desiccated realm (which passes for, but in fact obscures, reality); and that my job is to click on the hyperlinks that connect the here and now to the everywhere and always.