I don't know much about what I'm writing <br />except that I'm writing; <br />I don't know much about what I've written either, <br />except what I read; <br />I don't know much about what I'm going to write <br />except what I hope; <br /> <br />but I do know a little about where I'm writing: <br />it's there, in those paintings of The Annunciation, <br />between where the angel's outstretched hand with lily, <br />and sometimes open, sometimes closed, but silent mouth <br />and Mary's crossed, clasped hands, her body <br />curved in obedience and humility; <br />eyes downcast; so be it unto her; there <br /> <br />just beyond the angel's reach, <br />just in front of mankind's hope, <br />where nothing and everything is happening, <br />and your eye runs out to the distant horizon <br />only to focus on infinity; <br /> <br />that's where I'm waiting. <br />that's where I'm writing.<br /><br />Michael Shepherd<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/0167-just-beyond-the-angel-s-reach/
