Retire My Pen

Speak to me my muted heart where went your rhyming ways The voice of a hearts deepest hour in mysteries a soul explained Is your rhythm lost or simply hiding in the noise of life as it whines expression tied by hopes revising sweet serenity and peace of mind You run and ride with speed in your stride ignoring all fear of the fall you dig your heals and hold on tight then question how momentum has stalled An erie silence rests within like unwritten lyrics implore when inspiration is crushed to dust supposing your song should be more Poetry to you is a mountain raised and balanced in a hand yet your fountain of speech has ceased its flowing like the trek across untraveled sands If inspiration is swinging from a chandelier opposing the status quo and insight a vehicle to merely be steered why now is there no marrow in your bones Words keeping time with the beat of a life linguistic expression out of step lancing the poetess with a wordless knife a beat-less palpitation in her chest Return to me dear creativity like frankincense anointed and blessed convey the miracle of a heart unlaced my poetic world at rest Could it be I feel too much farther reaching than any sea or the sky or is this a symptom of insecurity for all the where the when's or the why's I am disassembled, rearranged the safety net beneath me removed everything familiar suddenly changed with the muse of my rhythm unmoved Perhaps when the seismic quake has passed and my world is as it should be at last I'll write of how transporting through worlds was like a dance with a tornado as it twirls Until then I'll retire my pen and pray a new melody plays some new, never known before tune in the awe of poetic display