I wake up early to drop fishline into the pool of meaning: 

To write.

The morning silence

Envelops me in the unreal bubble of solitude.


Or I fish a piece of paper and pencil stub from my pocket

While riding a bus

Or listening to music

Or sometimes while people are telling me Important Things

(They think I'm taking notes and are flattered.)


Before I go to sleep each night,

I call up the best visual image of the day,

Both for the pleasure of re-experience

And as a lure for my dream fish,

To see if a bite will come

And I'll wake up with God on my line.


                                                                                                    (San Geronimo, CA: August 1996)

                                                                                       From Pit/Stops: Transformation Press, 1999