“Drink and be satisfied.” Those were the words I heard during my prayer time this morning. Often throughout my life I have sought an image from the Lord that I can hold onto. That I can believe in and draw strength from. That is real. More real than my present circumstances and disability from MS. …
How does it begin, the act of writing? With discipline and inspiration. Sometimes I have both of those before I open my iPad and write a blog post, a chapter in a novel, a poem etc . . . Other times, it’s one or the other.
It has been awhile since I let my mind wander in the realm of verse. Last night I let my thoughts take me where they would, and although this is probably more prose than free verse poetry, it’s a poetic picture of where I write most of my work. I hope you joy it.
My heartbeat throbs in my left ear as if I’m hearing it’s pulse underwater, coughing ravages my throat raw, and I imagine my head as a ginormous stuffed mushroom. The slick taste of menthol cough drops coat my tongue. All this from—a summer cold. I rarely get a cold, but when I do, it debilitates …