Outside is gargling with rain; A displeasing pitter-patter of cloudburst spittle, You sunlight absent, serotonin vampire, dooming me into this inferior place while water flows into canals frying golden leaves that pass and pass.
I glare and I glare at the whiteness of this page; my to-be creation and what will I create? Sunburned arc eyes, shuttered, flickered flashes I recalled, ‘I am a creature of the pen’, she said: ‘My pen is the best of me’. We share a name you know?
It was 1988, a blizzard hastened its squally flakes during my twenty-hour wait. They groaned, they rumbled against the frail hospice window; mother had always said. A grating cry creaked that February night; the blizzard was worried stiff. shall I write about the night I came to be?
So there I am a sprout germinating in the dark, Birth towards decay. A natural occurrence, if you know? I expected so much more. there is so much more to say.
But I shut my eyes and I am rushing and I am dashing towards the end of the horizon. I drop myself into the pool of dooming sunsets, Be swallowed into darkness; sweet comfort of the unseen. And after I howl my yowl,
I let it hiss the birth of an unfamiliar miracle
I used nature metaphors and imagery to describe raw emotion and real-life experiences