dear writers
Write until you are lost
in white washed forests after
Winter’s first clinging snow;
until right becomes left
and wrong transforms into
something new and untold.Write until you are lost
between summer meadows,
budding with new life
and stale air turned fresh
within the confines of your
freshly opened mind.Write until you are found
again within yourself,
every piece and scrap of
what you once were; alive
and burning on the page —
write to forget, write to remember.
