Starting Over

If you thought I gave up writing and blogging altogether, I'm glad to announce that you're wrong :D.

I just had some pressing matters to deal with before they'd press me into a quicksand of problems.

If anyone likes this or is intrigued enough by it, please suggest a better name/title. Lets see if an entire year of doing poetry has rubbed off  or should be rubbed off :P

Starting Over

Sometimes.   

Sometimes she finds it very difficult to write.

When she puts pen to paper,

Thoughts fracture into vapour

Gliding past her, away from her,

                         

Floating above:  clouds that seem

Touchable if only you could tiptoe a little higher.

Like the memory of something, a taste 
devoid of a name to chew on; eyes that gleam

Open into frozen, depthless hollows.

They stand impassive: a twin watching the other.

Not to assist but to scoff, “You think we are

Worth a fraction of eternity, of someone’s precious

 Moment in time?  Relics that gather

Human ken amassed over a million years,

In a concentrated heartbeat?”  She mutters

“Maybe....” and it dies in their face of incredulity.

Resonance of trepidation in her voice, she flutters

Between a yes and a no. “Why not?” with renewed

courage she enquires. They announce

“Look at our construct. Tasteful phrases, sophistication

Of design, erudite allusions: are these the terms you would

Outfit us in?” “Perhaps....” “And yet, uncertainty

Colours your utterances.”, cutting off her contention

Into shards of probing silence.

“I trust in your merit above mine. I do”. They contort

Into a leer. “We are a likeness, a shade, a shadow,

A silhouette without essence, reflecting you. Only as 

Credible, as you are. You us I me they we, better not

To be. No questioning our ineffectuality."

Came the rejoinder echoing, debilitating the hope that

Nourished her dreams.  Empty, unending, vacuous, void. Until,

She traced her course back to the beginning-parchments

From the past inked with wit, crossed anew with faith  ,

And smudged with feeling, pregnant with possibilities,

Giving birth to a chuckle, the ghost of a smile

Somewhere. “Beauty is as beauty does, and you are stirred

Up from tranquil passion, making you me us

Worthwhile."

Shoring these fragments of hope against her ruins, she sighs and starts again.