You want to write
there is so much to say,
but it won’t come

You rack your brain
for the subject,
the feeling, the rhyme

What could you scribe
to build the bridge that
connects one another?

Frustrated and fearful
the tap is turned off,
over before it began

Drawing deep breath,
as you plunge toward
the sword of self inspection

The words appear
almost of their own accord
and you’re connecting

You’ve risen through
the forest of doubt
and amazingly found…

the clearing