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As a writer, I profess ignorance as to the source of inspiration.  As singer-songwriter Leonard Cohen quipped:  *If I knew where the good songs came from, I'd go there more often.*

Likewise, with my poetry (since prose I can summon, pretty much, on command).  But, where the insight comes from, and the shapely sentences to express them, I hardly know.

Also, why there are times when one writes in one form over another is a mystery.  For example, aphorisms will gush forth from me, as though from an unknown spring, and then go dry... for years!  

Afterwards, to keep the creative juices flowing, I will write only essays, or poems, for a stage.   I've come to believe that a combination of silence and solitude (thus, deep reflection) can be counted on to, eventually, produce *something*.  

That something, lately, that I'm producing seems to be a hybrid between poetry and aphorisms, (aphoritry/poemisms?) or micropoetry as it is sometimes called.  

Here's one example, below that I, recently, wrote. I hope you enjoy it and recognize the experience...
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