To not sink in sadness
but to write:
“I am the one who writes,
the one who chooses
once again
to survive.”
And,
the song being cried,
I once again
begin to describe
the path I can’t help
but make,
give life.
*
There is something to be said
and something to refuse; —
we are how we say
and refuse,
the words that move
and ache
in us.
*
You have to write
though
it’s true
that what comes
doesn’t suit you,
you who read and judge
the lines.
No, you’re not Stevens,
nor qui que ce soit,
but you write who you are
as you are
and that
no one else
may write.
*
We are not what
but how.
How we say,
how we meet,
how we try,
how we think,
how we know,
how we suffer
and fail
and take
the inevitable defeats
and trials
of everyday life.
We are not
however
what we say,
what we think,
what we do,
what we know.
How is the key to our being,
and our choices,
our yeses and noes…
Gray Haskins 