Poem 2 in the series…
It’s taken so long to get words on paper
The words come out
But they’re jumbled, messy
Thoughts form in my heart but get stuck in my mind
Swirling around, confusing and irritating my soul
Writing is my refuge, my soul’s escape
But my muse is fickle and dependent on an unhurried, uncluttered mind
So much life to live in only short spurts of time
The bending of time doesn’t happen so frequently
When I don’t give life over to Spirit.
I’ve tried to take control, to let earthly concerns dictate my heavenly path.
Control is the enemy of the soul;
It calls forth the ego, which reminds me where I’ve gone wrong,
Numbing my excitement for life