The drought is over.

After a long long time I am writing poems again. So refreshing.

The Disconnect
A time, a pause, a paragraph, a breath
Breath that is stolen from another tune;
Escaping the stages, the stones on which
Goodness and mercy were to follow me,
Following some strategy of life,
Some good book curled into a dose of clarity.
Lacking victory, past completion,
A diversion without answers where
Questions come just like the rain
Maybe there isn't a time but only a refusal to surrender
While the flute and the dirge move in a circle
Never coming closer.
But I mourn the view of one memory with bittersweet words
Erased slowly by a curtain turned by the breeze

If I was a song
I would grow the disenchanted thoughts
And plant them in a shallow grave
Predictable outcomes
In a soil of broken confidence
Unsigned, unwarranted
Indifferent, introspective
Permission granted to wait,
to chant a wish,
to dance a sigh
to lift this weight off
A burden bleeding through me
Eyes closed
Invited to breathe
To inhale
To rest my head on your shoulder
To wish, and let go

Prompted from Ecclesiastes 3:4b

27.6.12