In this time of “writer’s block”,
I stare blankly at paper and clock.
With jumbled prose I try to think,
should life be guided by pen and ink?
Does a rhyme decide a story’s path?
Can a re-verse save us from the wrath?
The day is young; there are things to do,
but the sky’s gray with a snowy hue.
The air is cold, I’ll assume,
my spirit’s locked within a room.
Doors will open if I choose.
When all’s lost there’s none to lose.
Persistence colors the choices we make.
Is persistence for persistence sake?
Do we persist simply to win?
If direction’s unclear should we begin?
Like life, love, thought and art,
questions unanswered are the start.
Life ticks forward with us or without.
Thoughts will be shared without a doubt.
Art will be made with all the thoughts had.
And love makes life happy but also sad.
Dilemma’s obscure visions true.
A vision obscures my dilemma new.
I’m seeking an end to what’s now fraught.
The past’s the lesson of what’s been taught.
And like life, love, thought and art,
ends shade poetic an open heart.