Waiting For Light

It appears that I have nothing to say.

All I need is a word or a lyric phrase

to ignite a thought, set the stage,

but here I sit in this milky haze,

waiting for light to shine.

I wonder if Byron or Keats ever thought:

"I've nothing to write.  I'm going to bed!"

Do you think they worried and fretted and sought

elusive words that finally led

to poetic despair and doom?

I've been at this keyboard since 4:32

and I've nothing to show except empty space.

You'd think that in time even a few

dazzling words would find their place

on this otherwise pristine page.

Curses on poetry, meter and rhyme!

I'll never again set pen to page!

It will, indeed, be a very long time

before I pretend to be the sage

whose words soar to lofty heights!

But perhaps my muse should have one more chance.

What if, in the light of a brand new day,

my soul engages the challenging dance

and those bashful words come out to play?

Who am I to deny the world!