Whispers & Scrolls
I haven't written in so long that looking back at those times feels like an evanescing echo. I'm starting to question the facts because how did I lose the one thing that's truly mine and that I've loved so very much? It's my safe space, my sanity, my passion, my depth, my spirituality, my presence, my mindfulness.
It's like I've forgotten how to spell. No, it's worse. It's like staring at a blank page in fear to even cogitate a thought, let alone ink it in. I've neglected my poetry for scrolls and instead of looking within, I'm looking at screens. A little voice inside whispers;
"Go find the silence, go swim in the stillness of a good story."
Yet my finger keeps scrolling...
Scrolling...
Scrolling for hours....
Scrolling through years...
But I won't scroll my life away.
I'll just listen to the whispers.
