What is it today? the blank page asks me.
I stare back, just as blankly.
Then, the words,
thoughts, images
come rushing
in
and
I
have trouble
corralling them
on an 8 ½ by 11 sheet
which once was blank
but is now being filled
with ideas,
incomplete.
Every day it starts in the same way,
the blank page asks and
I think
I have nothing to say.
So it is with our days,
we don’t think we have much
to give, to show, to say
but when we simply engage
the questions that arise,
the days fill with meaning,
much to our surprise.