Sometimes you (I) can work too hard at the analytical process and forget what I am really doing. I am reminded of a Buddhist story where a woman who had studied academic texts for many years and had come to the monk for further education and after discussions with her he said. ‘ You are like a woman who has chickens in her yard and you are picking up the droppings instead of the eggs.’
Are we sometimes missing the point, the essence of our work? (me that is)
The simple marks in the work have such strength
Who says my poems are poems?
My poems are not poems
When you know that my poems are not poems,
Then we can speak of poetry ( Ryokan)