Why is it amazing? I don't know.
Sometimes it's hard to make sense.
Maybe funny, ironic, some part of the truth.
Some part of my life's essence.
It has been two months since I've written anything.
It has been two months since we said good bye.
Is it coincidence?
Even today I only write about not writing.
Here I dwell on what I miss, does it do any good?
But I am aware of what's not there.
That spark, that creative light,
Constantly seeking the words to describe.
Rain drops fall, into their own reflection,
The surface is disturbed, for a brief moment, chaos.
Then symmetry, beauty, its energy dissipates, balanced again.
Today it is raining, rain always makes me think,
It disturbs me, I look past my reflection, look into my essence.
It is not there, only the memory, but for today, it is enough.