Sunday night and I’m at a loss for words. I can feel them fluttering, swarming, pounding, and writhing about my brain but getting them on the page seems like an impossible task tonight. So I’m going to find a new direction.

Today, I was going through old boxes of mostly junk, as I continue on my declutter my life project, and I found some old poetry. Poetry I had written years ago. Really bad poetry. Hell, I’m not even sure it is poetry.

It reminded me that I don’t have to be perfect to be creative. I feel like we get in our own way sometimes. In my case, lots of the time, and that is a disservice to ourselves. I can be creative and successful. I am creative and successful. Not because I’m a published author. Or because I’ve written the next great American novel. I haven’t. I may never do those things.

I was reminded today that it’s okay. My poetry, bad or otherwise, is one more step on my path. It’s an opportunity to reminisce about days long past and consider where I want to be in the future. Today’s find is a time capsule without directions. I don’t remember what I was thinking or feeling when I wrote it. And I didn’t leave any other notes. This could be a piece I was planning on expanding or a random scribble made during a meeting.

I’m going to share this random piece of whimsy because I feel like it deserves some sunlight after being stuffed in a box for who knows how long.  

A flash of diamond nestles black.

The silver pearl sparkles, glows.

Historians watching, guiding bright.

Travel on the crimson pathways.

Onyx becomes amethyst while soft mist wanders light. 

Who knows – maybe the sparks of a new story will be found as I consider this filament of meaning from days gone by.