When the Words Won’t Come

Lately the words won’t come. I suppose that silence is edging them out. Maybe one day it will prove fruitless to begin typing.

Silence is our natural state when the world isn’t interfering with it.

Breathing is quiet and even in the natural state.

Sleep? Well, not so much. I have been lying awake for hours recently.

Vicki is a piece of work. She is a nitpicking perfectionist. I enjoy her being quiet.

She doesn’t know anything about what I am writing. She only knows what it is to her advantage to know. Awakening gets rid of her time and time again.

Awakening is not rigid; it is breathing in and out throughout our earthly journey.

I am in Act III of the play that ends with the death of the hero or heroine.

Some people die before they die and it seems to be a great gift.

Vicki just keeps on typing as if she is doing something she can take credit for.

I quietly watch her clumsy dealings with events but say nothing. I am a well-kept secret.

Vicki Woodyard