1392

Hope is a strange invention—
A Patent of the Heart—
In unremitting action
Yet never wearing out—

Of this electric Adjunct
Not anything is known
But its unique momentum
Embellish all we own—

I've been quiet for a season
Like the dormancy of winter
Yet I am quite longing for growth of a revolutionary spring
To rise up from my deep hibernation
To bring those tales that beg to take form
The empty screen is longing
To become filled with poetic messages
And works of fictional and nonfictional tales
These fingers itching to type words
To bring them to full fruition
This mind is more than willing
Like a bloom ready to unfold its intricate petals
To spill forth its secrets

Hearing the call
Fidgety to the poking
Feeling the hunger
Responding to the mighty urge
I cannot stop that grumbling murmur within
That has fell into slumber
The reawakening in my soul, stirring
Me into action

So I write, again

My mouth is a cell
When it comes to you
Because the words
Are wanting to be free
But the metal bars
Won't let them out