“We never live; we are always in the expectation of living.” ~ Voltaire
Ι.
There was a cat on the street,
looking for street signs
and the road to home.
Sometimes I’m like her,
lost. But I’m seeking a
map-less route.
ΙΙ.
Why do we look so small
sometimes, especially
when we are facing the ocean?
Why do all problems shrink
in front of liquid peace?
ΙΙΙ.
Waiting for a right time was never fun,
it was like looking for a silver star in bright
daylight, pointless.
Ιν.
Those little moments. I saved
them on my happy pages.
Right now we are hiding.
Because some moments stole
extra words when I was
meeting my writer’s block.
ν.
Let me tell you first,
sometimes it just feels wonderful
to be alive on a warm day
when the sun is melting on
a yellow maple. The greens
are vanishing silently, as if
the world is conspiring against
my murky hopes and signalling
me to change. Change for good.
At least one last time.
**
I loved planning my posts beforehand and scheduling them for warm afternoons. But this month when the laptop started ignoring me, when I injured my another knee ( the good one), and when I had something like writer’s block ( that time, when in absence of right words, I feel like a writer ), I gave up writing posts here. But looks like just like the season, everything is temporary. Hopefully.
So have you ever had that popular condition called writer’s block? How do you overcome it?
Spread the words..
A Journey Called Life ... 
Me too. 🙂
I stumbled across one of your older posts–this one–and had to comment: “Why do all problems shrink
in front of liquid peace?” Love this. I don’t care why–I’m just so thankful they do!
Your posts are so catchy n spell binding. Just LOVE IT!!😍😍
Or meet somewhere in between 🙂
Sorry that I’ve been gone for so long. Xo
Keep it up, my friend!
It’s one of the best ways to continue the flow. Because if I stop writing for a while, getting back becomes a big problem. So I understand what you meant. Thanks a lot for sharing, Sheena. And thank you for reading. 🙂
I’m planning to write more frequently, which means, more pre-planning, more editing and more biting nails. But that’s the fun. 🙂 Thank you so much for your inputs and your visit, Itty. 🙂
Always love seeing you here, Michelle. You make everything so positive. Thank you for being there. I’m craving for rain. Lets switch places. ❤
Writing garbage- Ya I know about that well. 🙂 For me, a writer’s block is when I cannot keep the flow of my writing straight. Thanks for your inputs, Claudia. Thank you for reading too.
H aha, You’re generous. 🙂 Thank you for reading.
That’s the best suggestion. Thank you so much. Walking away seems to work for me too. Thank you for reading. 🙂
I’m just doing a bunch of silly meme posts (top whatever lists, etc.) to get writing something…I am sure a lot of it is disregarded but it gets me thinking even on a silly/inane/incosequential level for a bit.
Now you will become even more aware of the minutes that pass, and a greater understanding will settle within, until at last you are emotionally prepared to ‘share’ again.
This was gorgeous, A. Writer’s Block helps us appreciate the floodgate times even more.
Beautiful read – I’m craving the sun.
Real writer’s block is the absence of anything to write about. I don’t believe that exists. Even if we write garbage, we are still writing. I do believe that we all ride that rollercoaster of fluidity and roadblock. My theory is that when we can’t really write what we want to we write what comes to mind. The fluidity will return. Your writing is proof of that.
Writer’s block is more frequent and welcome. Because without it, I won’t be able to know how “sometimes it just feels wonderful
to be alive on a warm day
when the sun is melting on
a yellow maple.”
Beautiful words with an amazing photograph. The quote goes well with both.
Definitely, we all experience writer’s block at some point. However, I tend to overcome mine by walking away from my writing desk and engaging in a different activity entirely, sports preferably or I just cool off with beautiful music until I can tune back in and the words begin to flow again.
Nice write up