Barren Page

this barren page, screaming, crying yelling through the winds, inviting me to begin again, always, to just begin again and again, tempting my pen tempting me to just begin, begin A G A I N this infertile soil, empty page – white as snow, innocent and fragile, waiting for my soul to pour out its dreams, its hope, its prayers words softly spoken, phrases sometimes broken, tenderness in melancholic stories, remembering, the light promising my heart, my soul, my life will remind me why the words, they start to flow… echoing dreams, praises and grace, combinations of darkness and light, flowing through the night on star strewn skies, climbing picket fences and fighting defeat, death like a weary wound, shadowed by dread, inspired by the hues of laughter, the hues of silence falling from my head… this quite page, devoid of sentences, a wasteland meant for the intimacies cloudless memories, fresh soil adventures, gentling the feelings, blessings as fertile as the Sunday morning prayers, praises, amazing – grace and faith, assurance that God Himself will destroy the shadows with poetry and prose meant for moments like these, moments of stirrings, like winds soaring on the music of an overburdened storm, destinies fulfilled and destinies grown by sunsets and silence, joy and kindness, the touch of a light who bleeds beyond the yesterdays, into the memories, into the everlasting seeds of dandelions, bursting from the curling, twisting ache of a life who believes beyond this blank page is a startling scene, a revelation, a seed… planted by the spirit who can see past the meaningless verses to the vision… vacant, the page – it is intimate and caresses the spirit with a future life, a life who is created by open hearts and fresh ideas, sentiments, seeds of graceful aches, grains of gladness, abiding in the visions, verses erase the darkness with the mourning of a new dawn, a new hope, a new light flowing from the heart who can see the heart who just believes in this sea of broken words, the dream that breaths quietly, stirring the light of a love inside, a love for words, a love for poems, a love for knowing… in this barren page, are seeds of blessings meant for the g u s h i n g stream flowing from the soul who simply believes the God who gives and takes away, the God who stirs hope and faith the God whose love and grace… inspire the soul and the pen, move the moon to shed its light, so the night grows quiet amid the burning embers of a dream meant to fill this barren page of hope… for the words that turn up when the muse is heard, when the reflections are burning a trail of light that never dims. … trail of lovely words, lovely feelings, love that never ends because they are sent by the winds of fire, poured out on the breath of internal infernos, fires of everlasting, the joy that comes from carving a dream into the bareness.