Sometimes the pencil moves on its own,
it knows the way it wants to go
and nothing I can do will stop it.
I reach for the eraser and then pause.
Perhaps the pencil knows something I don’t.

A shape emerges and somewhere at the back
of my mind a switch is thrown,
a light goes on.
Ah, so that’s where we’re heading.
And I continue on down this new path,
herding my pencil like a recalcitrant cat,
until the next epiphany.

 

#341