A single candle lights the room, casting shadows that dance for me. Silence is everywhere except for the crinkling of dripping wax and an occasional bird passing by.
My eyes strain as my words finds the empty pages, and thoughts arise to be heard. The shadows dance faster as my pen has no boundaries, as sentences are formed, waiting to be seen, read, and understood.
Dusk finds the candle burned out and my face on my desk. I wipe away the sand from my weary eyes and pick up where I left off as the darkness nears. With a fresh candle beside me, my thoughts come alive.
Mike 2024
No comments:
Post a Comment