“Beginning with Today,” Ensign, Aug. 1997, 17
Empty pages of the journal
glare in pale anger at me,
as I quarrel with words:
Words—to be the legal tender
for all my private and public debts;
words—in pots watched toward the cautious
boil, so no one is burned;
words—blunt, cold, and drab in notion,
without a chuckle beneath the
strain of recording;
words—unguarded startlers, contaminators
contributing to shortened lives
into the next generation.
No wonder the pen is silent!
Opening the journal,
I stop worrying words
and write from love.