Patient Creativity
trying to trick my brain into being creative
no, into allowing the creativity I know is there to flow
creativity that I keep walking up to that ledge with
and then stepping back from
She holds my hand and asks me,
but what are you afraid of?
together we have already flown
she waits patiently next to me, still holding my hand
there are tears in our eyes because words are trapped in my throat
I gulp them down rather than free them
afraid of their power, afraid of their truth,
saddened by others who do not understand
she lets go of my hand only to wrap her arms around all of me
the type of hug that is tight
and silently says
I got you, you are safe, everything will be alright
I will wait for you she whispers into my ear
for this is why we write
words may never be perfect
but they will flutter back to you
come and go and flicker with inspiration
and when you are ready
we will take that leap
when you are ready to trust me
and more importantly when you remember
that you already trust yourself
