Fourteen Lines

The ineffectiveness of poetry
Is legend. I write sonnets nonetheless,
And you, in reading them, might fail to guess
How every fourteen-line discovery
Reveals a home truth, even if you see
The truth. Its very ineffectiveness
Is why you're reading, thinking I express
Only what fourteen lines reveal to me.

The whole world opens up, wild and unplanned,
Like flowers stretching up towards the sun.
I don't care much for images. This one,
However, may help you to understand
The way it feels when, with my modest hand,
I light upon the right word, then I'm done.