The spring rain falls like tears from the leaden sky. Why do the heavens weep?
Why does Mother Nature mourn so? Perhaps she grieves for the year that has passed us by, for the flowers that have wilted and the leaves that have withered in winter’s cold embrace, lost to time forever more.
Yes, she laments each passing season, each sunset upon the horizon that brings the day to a close. Yet all endings, however bittersweet, open the way for new beginnings and new life.
She will smile once again and the sun will shine down its light upon the world anew.
Until then, let her share her sorrow. Let the downpour wash away the past to bring forth the future, bright with promise and hope.
Fickle is the Muse's favour,
Alighting in the minds of but a lucky few.
Like the furtive fluttering of gossamer wings,
It tickles the senses and awakens one's sleeping spirit
To endless possibilities and effortless creation.
Until it takes flight, seemingly on a whim,
As if it never was, leaving us wanting.
Leaving naught but a terrible lack, an absence,
An endless drought of ideas that stretches on and on.
Oh, but to be at Inspiration's mercy,
To walk that line between its benevolence and its indifference,
What a dreadfully wonderful place to be!
The world is a strange place these days, isn’t it? The streets, schools, and playgrounds are empty. Hardly anyone is allowed to go to work. People are locked up tight in solitary confinement, or “quarantine” if you prefer. I think my version is much more apt though, don’t you? Whether it’s self-imposed or not, it still feels a lot like imprisonment. In addition, we grow more and more cynical and suspicious of each other with each passing day. “Did she just cough?!” Where does my neighbor think he’s going? He’s supposed to stay home! “Is somebody stealing my toilet paper?” On and on it goes, with no end in sight.
Sing to me of days gone by
Of days when we stood in the sun
And the shadows were far behind
Sing to me your songs of today
Of how your head hangs heavy
Yet your spirit remains strong
Yes, sing to me of days to come
Of when we'll hold each other closeAnd once again stand in the sun
It’s been eight years since my last blog post. Just let it sink in for a moment and think about that. It was 2012 and times were much simpler. Much, much simpler in fact, what with all the craziness that is the Covid-19 pandemic assaulting the world at the moment. I was also much younger and a very different person in those days. At least I’d like to think so. I’d like to think that I’ve grown both as a person and as a writer during the intervening years. I really do hope the latter is true most of all, because looking back at my past entries, I find myself… cringing somewhat?