From the Poet's Soul
I have sat here before, in this little chair beside the windows of the garden looking for inspiration. Almost always, the Muse meets me halfway and the words flow onto the screen. Yet, today, I feel empty of words, empty of ideas.
Resolution: Never give up hope! (Never, say never!) Hope eternally!
So, I look into the archives...the dusty pages of hand written scribblings, the faded pages of type from my old typewriter (yes, many of my first poems were typewritten, literally!). I find a few offerings, my New Year's gift to you all.
NON-PRODUCTIVE
Holding the pen,
I strain to push thoughts
onto the paper.
My being is heavy
with the memories of the past,
thoughts for the future,
and reflections on the duties
due the present.
The phrases that appear
have no rhyme,
no reason.
Frustration and weariness
push dreams away...
the words are gone...
I am empty.
The mind would continue this madness,
but the heart rules.
Rest and quiet will fill the empty spaces.
Sleep will bring inspiration,
then, it will be time to try again.
Resolution: Never give up hope! (Never, say never!) Hope eternally!
So, I look into the archives...the dusty pages of hand written scribblings, the faded pages of type from my old typewriter (yes, many of my first poems were typewritten, literally!). I find a few offerings, my New Year's gift to you all.
NON-PRODUCTIVE
Holding the pen,
I strain to push thoughts
onto the paper.
My being is heavy
with the memories of the past,
thoughts for the future,
and reflections on the duties
due the present.
The phrases that appear
have no rhyme,
no reason.
Frustration and weariness
push dreams away...
the words are gone...
I am empty.
The mind would continue this madness,
but the heart rules.
Rest and quiet will fill the empty spaces.
Sleep will bring inspiration,
then, it will be time to try again.
INCOMMUNICADO
The telephone hangs silently...
an object d'art among others.
The mailbox stands empty...
a lone monument to words.
I reach out with my mind
picturing pen to paper,
imagining the tone of the dial.
I send my heart
filled with hope and love and faith
through the universe.
Life sometimes makes us prisoners
each in our own world.
But we are not alone...
Never alone!
ILLUMINATION
It lies quiet,
Deep inside...
Further than creation...
A forgotten dream.
Until,
A memory...
Half recognized...
Enlightens the heart.
Soul mirrors soul.
The telephone hangs silently...
an object d'art among others.
The mailbox stands empty...
a lone monument to words.
I reach out with my mind
picturing pen to paper,
imagining the tone of the dial.
I send my heart
filled with hope and love and faith
through the universe.
Life sometimes makes us prisoners
each in our own world.
But we are not alone...
Never alone!
ILLUMINATION
It lies quiet,
Deep inside...
Further than creation...
A forgotten dream.
Until,
A memory...
Half recognized...
Enlightens the heart.
Soul mirrors soul.
Or, when all else fails, play with the dog!
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