I don’t know how to write poems.
I only know the place where they emerge,
As urges clothed in the form of words.
And there in a sacred place
I collect the words like ripe apples
Plucked straight from the tree:
Gifts I have neither planted nor tended,
Just simply received.
© Ben Truesdale and distilledvoice, 2015.
distilledvoice 
Yep. Describes my experience very well, as well.
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I find it very interesting! We’re obviously instinctive types rather than the contrary.
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Yep, though I don’t know if instinctual is the right word. A ‘spirit guide’ of mine once told me, “You do realize you’re simply channeling the wisdom of the ancients…” That has a truer ring to it. : )
I can and do write straight from my head, though rarely with poetry. But the ancients are far wiser than I, and craftier with words to. 😉
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Well put, Patrick. Lots to think about there!
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