Time

It is time…

Time to
Channel my creativity;
Come out of my cocoon;
Wriggle my way out
Of this writer’s block.

It is frustrating.
I fight with my keyboard.
I wrestle with my pencil.
My words don’t dance
Like they used to.

Summer blooms around us.
Inside my mind, it is winter.
These barren branches cling on.
Soon enough,
They too will give birth to leaves.

My passion remains.
It is not yet visible on paper
Or for you to read aloud.
But make no mistake,
I’m not meek or bowing out.

I may falter,
But I won’t be led astray.
Like a mystery that unravels at its own pace,
I will find my way
With words again…

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