Is it the endless possibility
forged in the stream of creation?
Is it because we know
that our job as poets
will never be done,
and those poems won’t write themselves?
A combination of those
leads to stagnation,
the unwillingness
to accept a spot
in the pantheon of heightened thought.
Those people who wrote their works
and died long ago
are the same people now,
just in different clothes.
WHARVED 