There is a Divide, Not on a Map

There is a divide, not on a map, a separation of influences, hard and painful. There is no image other than an empty room. There are no emotions other than loneliness. Perhaps there is only the lack of concrete sensation. Something missing or forgotten, unnamable. Don’t let the darkness take me. I’m not ready to go.

Talking heads, a muted broadcast. Sleep beckoning, try to consume more caffeine. Keep moving! Driving onward toward a forward position, making the best of what comes. Past relations, decaying memories, and perfect regrets forever changing. Evolution of color and a faulty connection. Where love lives, dependence follows. Ownership ignored fellow travelers. Abandoned feelings are ringing doorbells. Efforts renewed as stagnant protests. I’m coming to my senses.

The words appear on an empty page. Thoughts united and pressed into function. No way to cancel now that the pen is in motion. It wants to be alive, conscious, and determined, reaching for appreciation and a name on a spine.

Muse, come into my being, leaving your mark and your intention on today’s tableau. No fear nor repression and no end to the flow. You’re welcome in this place. We choose you. Make your presence known, your purpose recorded.

Scribe, forget not your beginnings. Embrace love and forgiveness. Know the feeling of breaking through the division into the open arena of words, spoken and heard. You’re making an impression with more than paper and ink. Write on!

Post Information

Post Date	Author	Comments	Originally Penned
March 6, 2023	frankie	0 Comments	October 12, 2013