Adrift
February 14, 2017
The incentive to journal is lost, Emotionleess to steer
my words I’m floating in a current of nothingness, a tide
that knows no shore, an eddy that flows nowhere,
a circular movement, a painful gray searching for current.
The dull glow of the blank screen before me reflects
emptiness. My fingers don’t move. As though weighted
anchors mired in mud my wrists rest on the edge
of the keyboard—no thoughts will them to move.
Words will not take shape on the glassy surface
unless my heart and mind sets them adrift
on a moving current that connects my soul to form them
and my fingers to set them adrift for other souls to read.
