My apologies for the lack of contact. I’m working to realign myself with the muse and to refocus my heart.
Sometimes there’s too much noise, too many opinions, too much ugly in the world. The mind gets clogged up with it all.
Here is an attempt at confronting my writer’s block head-on to free myself.
A new free verse poem waits below.
When the grief lessened,
the pen, too, seemed to run dry
As if the mind
has no say in such things
As if it isn't enough
to want to create
While in alignment,
the poems drip from every surface
When out, things
are what they seem and nothing more
The words struggle through
thickets, ripping themselves open
to find their way back
to the page