I just found this…something I wrote this past autumn when I was desperate to write, but had no words.
why is my soul wrapped in darkness and doubt? i am a writer, but where are the words? why is my pen dry? the words that used to flow so easily have disappeared. like a pen that has run out of ink, there is nothing left in me. how can i recover what i lost? can the words be found? re-birthed from the ashes? or have the ember died, the last sparks quenched by cold water, never to burn again? oh! but that the fire would again blaze in passionate verse. prose and lilting phrase sparking with words and vivid imagination. desire, hunger, thirst…love, despair, peace, and hope. flow like fire and water from my pen, a dancing duet of darkness and light…crashing, falling, tangling and entwining to become one – the symphony of words breathing life into the silence of a blank page.
