The words I want to write . . .

Having been at summer school all week there has been a plethera of words, everywhere we turn there are words, words and more words.  Always thought provoking, always stimulating but always too many to absorb so maybe it was me being perverse that made me choose to go to Nancy's writing workshop this afternoon - as if my brain hadn't already had a surfeit of words.

Writing remains a challenge, unless of course it is for a sermon, but creative stuff still scares me in spite of all the groups I go to and all the times I sit down and try to conquer my fears.  I know they are irrational and that there are words inside me wanting to come out.  Nancy spoke to us about metaphor and simile and then told us to go away and write - so that is what I tried to do and eventually this is what came out.

The words I want to write . . .                                  

The words I want to write are yours,

sounding better to my ear

than words that drip from my pen.

I find the voice in my heart

is evading me once again.

It happens all the time.

the pen hovers above the page

the mind is blank,

Yet. . .

something inside aches to get out.

The body, it too speaks lies.

I am a different me,

not the one you see

or that gazes from inside the looking glass.

Would that it reflected the inside me.

Writing now,

I shut my eyes and

breathe in,

deep and slow.

There are no pictures 

just an eternal darkness.

No stars,

pinpricks of light,

to pierce the gloom.

They are trapped,

trapped deep inside;

wanting to escape

not quite knowing how. . .

Once more the pen hovers . . . 

still . . .

I breathe again . . .

Pen,                 poised,            above the page,

in ready expectation.

There is nothing . . .

No thing at all . . .

The words I want to write are yours

You – the one with the voice.

(of course the voice is mine!!)