My life feels like writer’s block, that place in between. Feeling like you have something to say or do, but nothing is happening. I keep seeing a color, I am not sure what it means. A stranger to who you are, en route to places you have never been. How do you expect me to write? I sit here with my paper and my pen. I try to put it into words, but it is like I have nothing to say. Life is like a novel, And I believe I am turning the page. Will you help me as I find my way? Here come the words. My pen begins to write. You always tell me what to say. You are my greatest insight. Within seconds, it is quiet again. Where did you go? Why did you go away? Deep yellow and gold. The colors I continue to see. I look out the window, you are staring back at me. A tree, swaying with the wind. I hear birds chirping. A bunny just found a friend. A beautiful morning for a ride, as a biker zooms by, he is listening to rock. Simplicity crosses my mind, Free from the flock. So simple to get quiet, yet so hard to do. But it is when you find silence that you hear the hard truth. It is the little things in life. Hold them very near. Just like those birds chirping in your ear. And that tree swaying with the wind. A plane that flies over head. And here you are again. We get so wrapped up in the big things, the conversations that go unsaid, That is where I struggle the most, because it lives in my head. But it is ok to miss someone or something, They matter. They are important for your growth. That’s what the big things are for. They teach us what we need to know. The big feelings, emotions, decisions, You will be able to write about them soon, But right now, focus on little things, give yourself room. The novelty of life. You are turning the page. Entering a new chapter. This can feel somewhat strange. And it takes time to find your way. But once you really let go, You see that the words flow seamlessly onto the page. And what about the deep yellow and gold? Talk to me, What would you like me to know? This is all you need to know: Life is a fickle thing, and hard things challenge us to grow. That feeling you feel, you call it writers block, That is just you resisting the change. Leave what is to come up to me. How wonderful is it that you can just be? How wonderful is it to appreciate the little things?
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