To Begin Again
With a set jaw and a lift of my chin
Picking up the pen is the only way to win.
For so long my heart has been heavy
And the words flowing have been absent,
Not even a trickle to drip thin
Drought
Dust in my fingers
Silence where can be heard
The dropping of a pin
Then....
Not all at once but, as if being stirred from a deep slumber,
The words blink awake
Slow and unsteady still sleepy they stir
Only persistent thought....that NOT to use them would be a sin
To waste nothing pen in hand, unsteady, unsure I make haste
I write, let the words come in a tumble in a bit of a jumble
in an effort to let the words flow from my heart to my hand
Through my pen
To allow the words God drops in my heart to land on the page like art.
Honest, sincere and free my, pen touches paper to once again begin.
