There are times when I can’t think

I sit and wonder

Staring at a wall

Hoping for a breakthrough

And waiting, simply pondering

When the next idea

Will settle upon the shelves

~

Filled with books and titles

Years of reading words that

Embody the notions we struggle

To restate, reiterate, renegotiate

Their meaning, purpose, responsibility

Inside the pages there is a story

That winds together formulaic worlds

~

Sometimes we even exist in a chapter

With disconnected characters

Experiencing similar emotions

Outcomes, storylines, thrillers

Meanings that carry a reader

Beyond the initial prologue

Seeking an event with definition

~

Yet now they are part of a display

Meant to indicate our own purpose

Who we are and where we traveled

Virtually within the creases binding

Our lives into quiet identities

Our blank stare allows us to steal

A memory drawing an ideal vision

~

I want to join the lives of the writers

That poured their heart and soul

Into designing the layout and structure

Of the cabinetry that holds my eyes

When I struggle to find new meaning

In my somber release, my solace

Cleverly writing the next chapter