I came across this poem in Kathleen Norris's The Cloister Walk. It resonates with me as a writer. What about you?
a quality of attention has been given to you:
when you turn your head the whole word
leans forward. It waits there thirsting
after its names, and you speak it all out
as it comes to you.
(William Stafford, 'For people with problems about how to believe')