The tittering leaves chutter softly to me - embracing the clouded sky, portent to a coming storm. We could not care any less - embrace the heavy clouds, a molten mood.
My thoughts are wild, omnipotent unhinged. Lapping water tempers the coming rain - whispers to me with those newly born saplings
Coaxing me to freedom, release from pain and present
A hope in deluge
A silent thunder ignites.
While writing has always been at the center of who I am, sometimes the challenge of putting thoughts to paper so honestly is too much for me. Because of this, I've gone through several periods of silence, often lasting years and years.
Last summer, a very dear friend of mine challenged me to write a poem a week, and he would do the same - he wasn't able to keep his end of the bargain, but in retrospect, I think the sole purpose was to get me to write again,