notes of a junkie

How fortunate this addiction.
I rarely write of it.
I'm always reminded of it.
There's always a place for it.
Addiction is a word we
hardly understand.
There are more words for it in
other languages
I am told. It's odd.
I've never admired it in other
ways or in other people.
Its not something
I fully understand
and even in speaking of it,
I still only allude to it.
It's not glorification, or denial.
It's only a problem if I allow
it to be. It's like a drug but not grown,
synthesized
or processed. It is created,
listened to, painted,

photographed,
contemplated, and enjoyed.
It is newly discovered;
it's an old welcomed friend.
It's something of my own,
but much greater.
It is an honor to know, I know.