Writers unblock

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Solitary, after the day retreat’s,

the only light a screen.

Cold fingers giving shape to thought,

of worlds as yet unseen.

 

Cocooned in blackness of unearthly space, 

untethered from an anchored mind.

Ideas gestate in such a place,

where fertile matter seeks to find.    

 

Drifting far from expectation,

no longer confined to Journeys plan.

Reluctant recipient of incantations,

the disembodied thoughts of man.

 

Then slowly falling back to night,

the room in light reveals

and words imparted during flight,

adorn the page which heals.    

 

meditatingWriting

◄ The deluded non poets poem

Indignitas ►

Comments

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Wolfgar Miere

Sun 17th Jan 2016 13:08

Thank you all,

Much appreciated. Thanks Stu, I learned a new word.

Wolfie

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Stu Buck

Sun 17th Jan 2016 12:46

i agree with joyti. this has a wonderful somnambulance (not even sure this is a word but it fits) to it, like reading a waking dream.

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raypool

Sat 16th Jan 2016 19:51

excellent subtlety and right up my street, it opens the mind and shows a depth of expectation and freedom to experience whatever is out there.

Ray

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Joyti

Sat 16th Jan 2016 15:35

I find this very calming.

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