a lump in the throat

have you ever started thinking about something….i mean really mulling over some new idea or thought and once it finally takes root you find yourself at odd moments, rolling it around on your tongue like a chocolate or trying it on like a new pair of shoes, stealing glimpses of you and it, together, in the mirror….

all the while attempting to figure out where and if it fits into your life and how and where to learn more about it...

then wham…

all of a sudden it’s like the universe hears you….

and the days become rich with fecund moments and signs?

suddenly everything seems to be nudging you in some new direction.
it's on a flyer you see by "mistake"
it comes up in a "random" conversation with a stranger

yesterday i heard it in a passage by robert frost. 

“a poem...begins as a lump in the throat, a sense of wrong, a homesickness, a lovesickness. it is a reaching-out toward expression; an effort to find fulfillment. a complete poem is one where an emotion finds the thought and the thought finds the words.”

and i thought to myself, “damn that frost guy is good.”

and then the fissure in my mind split a bit wider

and the little beam of light got a bit brighter….

and the lump in my throat….

got ever so slightly bigger.

and i got a little closer.

but sometimes closer just isn’t good enough. sometimes i want to be there already. i want the thoughts to have already found the words….

i want to live the poem.

and when i start to feel that way, when i start to get anxious and wonder if it will ever come to fruition, i have to tell myself shante (peace)

… i have to try to let go…..

"emotion finds the thought and the thought finds the words"

and the poem...is somewhere, somehow....just beyond the next mountain.

shante,shante a million times shante ~ mrs. m