You were my muse. The rhyme to my meter put on my heart. But none of that came to fruition, none of it mattered in the end. Now I stare out the window, listless still. I can’t write what isn’t there nor feel what isn’t near.
The world of love is dead and gone while a war in the world takes hold. Broken things pile up in this reality as we all try to create a new twist on this hell we live in. No one wants war. It’s Putin’s war and he alone must endure the karma he faces. But if I’m honest, his karma affects us all.
Economic inflation, climate change, racial divide, abortion bans, the list goes on. Oh yes, a pandemic with no end continues despite our disregard for it. It’s too much to hold. It’s too much to ask. A collective dark night of the soul as we struggle to make sense of and balance it all.
Mother Earth, Father Sky, you hold us and see us here. You hold me and see me here…. struggling to make sense of a world that makes none. Direct my footsteps. Show me your light, brilliance, grace. Teach me again of the enchantment you bring. Remind me it isn’t too late.