Distractions

Typically I have been able to continue to write and work and live but lately I have found that I have been distracted. Writing isn't a hobby or an outlet but it is a part of who you are and who you become as a person. It is an expression of one's self. It is a silent cry in the darkness for the things that make us who we are and that bring color to a monotone canvas. It is the cut on the skin of the soul that let's your life and your dreams and your thoughts seep out for the world to see with every beating of your innermost desires. Although it may not make sense for me to attempt poetry without limerick, rhyme, structure or pose, I form my thoughts rather through pure emotion and feeling.

Memories or shades of past hearts glimpse the mirror's edge. They come close enough to cast a silhouette before quickly being covered with drapes and sheets of security. The cracks don't allow enough time to see if the stranger is someone new because in the end the eyes of the beholder have never changed. The distance and appearances vary. My shadow changes as well because I have been spinning in the sunlight not knowing which way to go. To the East or Southern Coasts? The only direction or sense of guidance which truly matters is what I feel.

I guess I get distracted by all the unanswered questions in my life. Whether those answers can be found in the arms of another person, traveling to an unknown place, an alternative direction professionally, or maybe refocusing more on my faith, I am still lost in my pursuit for what I do not know. I feel directionless but still I press forward in the hope that it will all become clear if I trust in myself. Distractions or not, I will know soon enough if this is the path for me.