Elusive Masterpieces

Conceding the vital necessity of the
spoken word, it is the fascinated
excitement of the written word that
obsesses with its promises delivered
that intrigue of narrative of stories of
the world and our place in it, that
mysterious subliminal awareness that
in reading another's story one never
fails to experience one's own. Sometimes
I wonder if I'm sleeping or writing and
am just confused about the two being
separate each productive in its own
necessary way and confusing when
sleep begets words and images in the
creation of poems whose perfection
in tone and execution satisfy that
inner struggle, yet are impossible to
retrieve, like a whisper in an echo
chamber lost once committed never
to be found again when even the words
comprised of every letter of an expansive
alphabet have disappeared along with
the thought that engendered them in 
an exercise of frustrated writerly
ambition, left to mourn their passing.