Words Came

I stared at the
B
L
A
N
K
piece of paper.
There was
honestly
no
inspiration to write
no
motivation
no
sense of feelings
that needed to
flow endlessly
and powerfully
onto paper.
Perhaps getting out would help.
Perhaps removing myself
from the white that
STARED
back at me.
It was cool.
It usually is when I plan to write.
Coolness, the perfect setting for a writer.
Mood weather
And I took a moment to stand in place
With the moon glistening
Its beams reflecting off tiny diamonds
Diamonds that floated in the night sky
The night sky
Yet another wonder
Fully enclosing itself around me
Every which way I looked
Blackness
Darkness
Coolness
And yet, light
Light from the moon
From the planets
From the stars
A breeze shifted my thoughts
Breaking me away from
Still motion
One foot placed in front of the other
Motion no longer still
But a steady pace
My body moved at ease
Taking in all that was before me
In the navy blue of the night
Past buildings
Past homes
Past people
Funny that how as your body moves
Your mind clears
Circulating all the negative out
And filling you with
Nothing else
But
INSPIRATION
Back to the white I would go
To attempt to write once again
Once there
I sat
I waited
thoughts floated
images took shape
words came