We are set to head out soon and will be gone several days. Frustrated as I have been with waning creativity, or, at least the sort I am satisfied with, I had not intended on another post until we were back, but this came to me earlier today in the processing of my constantly running brain. Almost chucked it, thought of scheduling it for later, but figured, what the hell? Let’s just throw it out there…
Light knifes pink through the horizon.
Routinely, I pick up the
Flip open a fresh page of living
And wonder where to begin.
Some days, there is something
Incredible that overtakes me,
Lyrics dancing electric on every limb.
Others, my every utterance is like
Gears grinding rust,
Seizing up like a wheel with a bent rim.
I hardly know upon rising
Which will greet my day.
For ability seems to meet me
Only in varying waves.
Exultant movements of creative drive?
Well, desire is always humming somewhere.
But, the actual wherewithal proves
Far more elusive the longer I’m alive,
The more weight I bear.
Perhaps, this side of me is finishing,
Or so goes the question burrowing
From deep in my fear.
Yet, my heart aches for replenishing,
To twine out in fresh branches of artistry
For any out there who still will lend an eye or ear…