It quickens, it thickens, you can’t put it down now. It takes you, it shakes you,
it makes you lose your thought. ~ Cake
I yield to the limits of what
my basket can hold, strange musings
fierce regret, unaccountable joy.
Moved into prose with a calendar
flip. My desk clears, notebooks brim,
I realign my mornings to accomodate
a different muse. No brevity here,
I enter the sea, moved by the greater
currents. We say we have no power
yet we call the world into being
with every waking breath. Asleep
and sighing, we shake from certainty
into the deep magnetic i-don’t-know.
Carelessly or with intent, we use
our now to create. I follow my fingers
into a new world blinking, astonished.
November is here, and I must yield to my #NaNoWriMo urgings once again. I’ll see y’all December 1st. Happy writing to all!
Enjoy some Cake! (You think she’s an open book but you don’t know which way to turn to, do you?)