"It is during our darkest moments
that we must focus to see the light."
Aristotle Onassis
Out of focus, everything is out of focus! Adjusting back into routine has gone awry.
I sit with pen in hand, but only doodles find a path to the page. I walk every day desiring to reconnect with nature, but I see only dead leaves, mud, and a darkened sky.
A few tulips and jonquils inch their way up through rocks near the front yard. Their determination and willingness to make themselves present reflects the magic of creation while the snowflakes float in the cold air. Still nothing stokes my inner fire and the coals of my passion lay frigid against the bottom of heart's door.
The landscape of my imagination has fallen into the shadows beneath the midwestern sky. Colorful words no longer burst into my brain, eagerly seeking expression. It is difficult to link thoughts and phrases worthy of discussion.
"Let's end this day," say I, "and sink into the land of dreams where I can fly, colors dance and rocks sing out of tune!" In this imaginary sleepy space of mine, I can relax and be true. When I awaken in the morn, perhaps I'll see life anew.
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