First Try

November of 2020 a friend who facilitates a creative writing workshop, graciously extended an offer her general friend to attend a workshop, no cost, no strings attached.

AH!!! but there were strings, this was not the how to be a writer I thought, I actually had to write, then READ, over Zoom at least.

So we stayed, we wrote, we read, we…..loved…..it. It handed me some keys and thrust open some doors I wanted to open for a very long time, here was the first attempt, and the space maybe for a few seeds to grow, take root.

I’m trying to retain the normal, though my grip barely holds
In time this will heal, or so we’re being told.
The fractures in our foundations, the tears in our cloth
The stitching so fragile, stranded wings of a moth

I’m trying to see the perspective, view from the other side
Why cling so tightly, vengeful, gnawing pride
People just forgotten or fearful predators in our ranks
Daily simple rituals, sacrifice on these banks

I’m trying to look over the horizons, 
Return to normal, sanity creeping in
We can’t unfeel these blistering doubts
From the woods we emerge, wounded from where we’ve been.

I’m trying to see past the now
When we may endeavour to explore
Venture out, live again
Isolated no more.

The very first thing I wrote in a workshop in 2020, almost 6 years later I’m still blabbing. 

Sounds like its almost time I dissappear again and get back to doing stupid stuff.