A Poet Without Words
She Will Not Be Quiet: A (mostly daily, mostly unedited) writing practice
Jotting from my journal. Day #230 of (mostly unedited, mostly daily) writing/sharing.
Note: (I will now be posting MY (MOSTLY) DAILY WRITING on weekdays only, rather than 7 days/week
A Poet Without Words
I am a poet without words, a woman alone at her kitchen table watching the cursor blink and blink. I sip the vanilla-almond tea, light the candle, open the poetry book hoping another’s words will fuel my own. I yawn. I sigh. I watch the green bodied hummingbird sip from the feeder. I check the email again. I reach and reach. What happens if I stop reaching, if I feel rather than chase? What happens If I enter the wordless realm, if I listen rather than speak?