Drip Drop

Photo by Hugh Stevenson on Unsplash

Stained dirt brown
It flows generously,
It drips and drops regularly
Sometimes it gushes out clean
Then, it stops outright
Dark in the night
Leaving me with no light

Some say I should wait for my muse
Which has a short fuse
Others, it will pass with time
Or in my prime
Just writers’ block
A rock that locks the pathway

What do I think?
Earlier today, it was thanks to ECG
Turned out they had no clue
In the afternoon, I pleaded with the gods
Called out to my ancestors for better odds
With libation, a billy goat and a white ram
Yet, there was no outflow from the dam

As I reflect on the day’s event
I reject to lament on the present
I pick a paper
And ink down my thoughts
Actions and feelings
In fractions, for my healing