Life’s Writer’s Block

Life cycles through periods of blankness

Where the pages are unwritten and left white

Bleak, unvarnished, bright

Reminiscent of the erased words of the past

The drawings and doodles of memories rush to this abrupt halt

Like life got writer’s block

And decided it was a good time to start over

Ins and outs,

Ups and downs

The rising tide receding back into the fold of what was left untold

Cycles of starting over and being in an utterly new place

With scars and smiles from before

The experience was never locked behind the door I just came through

Always understanding where I’ve been and how I got to where I am now

Reflection of a self I’m building towards

It’s a stop-and-start kind of cycle

An ebb and flow, little by little these restarts move me

Move me out of the ruts, getting myself back on the rails that guide my track

It is drops in the bucket before the flood, before I’m able to give my blood to this page

This chapter, however long

It’s always a drizzle before the downpour of ‘me’ really starts

The cycle of starting over

I see the signs, I feel the presence looming

Not always a bad or a sad feeling

But one that is uncomfortable

Yet replicable, the process that got me moving again

Feeling familiarity of new shoes, the same brand I was before

Unscuffed and clean

No stains, dirt, or grime from time

Simply just where I’ve been before 

But in a different moment further along

Life cycles through these periods, 

Starting over, but never starting with an empty pen

Always able to access the library that I’ve built up

Every book I’ve put on my shelves

It’s exciting, uncertain, uncomfortable yet familiar. 

Blank pages, unvarnished and bright

Just waiting for my pen to unleash the flood held back from my life’s writer’s block.