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