I scatter in the wind
I know it will scald
shards will pierce into the ashen urges
but I curb my instinct to run
ignore the whispering sisters
who have the knack to create trouble
when the mind is fertile
I know how to charm out a story
from the debris.
anything is possible
I uncurl and walk free
"a non-smile is harbinger of smile,
don't we know that?"
Today I struggled to write this. My muse seems to have gone into hiding. I have not been able to write. Come to think of it, I don't want to do ANYTHING! Hope I get over this phase soon enough.