The cold of Winter has turned my thoughts inward…
Reflecting on things that were;
Visualizing what’s to be.
Will I make the same mistakes and rise like the sea
In turmoil, solitude lost in my words?
The voices within just want to be heard,
Crying out to be released.
The long nights of Winter can increase
Your inspiration, as you withdraw to rest.
You’re free to search your soul and confess
Your innermost desires and secrets in verse,
Drawings, paintings, prose, or simply rehearse
Dialogue from imagined friends out loud.
Because only you can restrict or allow
The words, the images, the scenes that unfold
Into stories that must be told.
–Deborah A. Bowman