How empty is my soul without words? Staring at blank pages, and nothing to say. The heart, so often running over with words that drip onto the paper, or the screen, now a black hole and quiet.
And suddenly, like an infertile woman seeing growing bellies at every corner, it seems all the writers, musicians, artists in my vicinity are bursting with newfound inspiration and creative magic. I am happy for them. But oh if a single bead of their inspired sweat would expire on my brow, that I could steal a little of their genius for myself.
I lie in bed and realize the immense mass of the emptiness within me, when my word lies silent. How thin the walls that protect me. When my faith in these words falters, I have nothing to protect me from the Everything Else. An entire life crumbles in the margins.
mine.
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I can empathize... :-(
ReplyDeleteI'm not going to tell you the words will come eventually b/c I hate the reassurances of others who promise me things they can't promise...but my dear, I sincerely hope they do!