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...
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