fugue | The Life, the Light, the Tears, of the Poet of the Sphere

It’s gone! It’s abandoned me!
A cloud has amassed, a fog has engulfed me.
My spark of inspiration has been extinguished,
the aura of life has lost its glow;
my identity, my imagination, my world is close to death-
I am in-between realities, I am in limbo.

Silence is now the language of my thoughts,
my life’s purpose is stuck in a fugue;
I feel like my entire universe has ended, void- and I am alone, solitary, nude.

The poetry of the galaxy used to be my natural tongue,
the rhyme and the reason of things was my field of view;
but now I can’t tell up from down, beauty from emptiness,
what is false from what is true.
My greatest fear has been realized, I have fallen from grace;
I feel as if I am floating free of anchor in an un-star-spangled space.

I read, I watch, I talk, and I listen;
I stare at a computer screen, and at a white sheet of paper;
but when I try to write something, I feel like my muse and my mind is in prison.

This is the end. I have failed. My days have ran out, like the sands of time.
No more poems. No more poetry. No more inspiration. No more rhyme.

Then I see it. Then the sun rises.
The explosion of creation; the messenger, known by many guises
arrives, as it has has done so many times before,
with a gift of hope- the key to an ever-present, but unseen door-
and also with an answer as to why I am here;
why we are sometimes overflowing with inspiration and new ideas;
and why it is important to truly embrace joy, and to shed a tear.

I feel like I am myself again.
I feel like the veil of uncertainty has lifted.
I feel like I am ready to live and write the poetry of my life,
and to share the love and the purpose that I have been gifted.