maelyn

I want to write,

To let my words pour from my fingertips,

To allow my imagination to run free,

To gift my ideas to others,

To simply put pen to paper.

I stare at the words in front of me,

The blank space below them,

The keys beneath my fingertips,

The possibilities I could bring to life.

Story lines bud in my mind,

But I hold back from letting them blossom,

A bubble of light rests atop the water,

Glimmering and glinting across the lake.

It’s a pocket of sunshine,

A pillow of glowing hope,

A pool of life.

Autumn leaves flutter around my head,

The color popping in the chilly,

Swirling air.

The veins stretch out,

Delicate within the leaves.

They connect,

Bits of sunshine peep through tree branches,

The rays cascading over the glimmering water.

The reflected light forms a pathway,

A trail towards the sun.

Thoughts and ideas twirl,

Merging storylines,

Squashing facts,

Manipulating personalities,

Melding stories together.

Little pockets of reality spin