Friday, May 16, 2014


Such haste
to express ourselves,

when we are already the expression
of what we are trying,

with such effort,
to express,

while a star falls
into a lake of moonlight,

known only
to itself.


Jan said...

Very true, William...but some of us feel that we must try to anyway...

William Michaelian said...

A natural impulse, it seems. Thank you, Jan....

Joseph Hutchison said...

Deep wisdom here, William—the inexpressible expressed! Not really "Self" expression, which is why it's poetry and not a diary entry, I suppose. Poetry, like knowing, is colored by the Self but not made of it. I always tell my students that poetry is the least subject of the written arts, and they inevitably look at me like I just walked out of the loony bin. But the best poetry, like your poem, is at heart objective: it expresses a truth, not the Self.

William Michaelian said...

Many thanks, Joe. I get that same look without students. But your observations are worth their weight in moonlight, and I’m glad you’ve added them here.