Strums of pain
Makes darkling bright
By grasp of a broad moonlight.

If one looks closely,
Total stillness under harness,
Dimlit blanket not placed to suppress.

Cleansing given from life’s worst.
Accepting shadows unintended to blind,
Instead healing injuries of heart and mind.

Without this blanket
In our challenges of time
Daily tumult calls our souls to mime.

Patience, cracks of light resume to live.
In blanket slowly they appear,
Soul’s full presence, back to stear.

© C.I.Mues

A Writer’s Mind Is a Well

“I learned never to empty
the well of my writing,
but always to stop
when there was
still something there
in the deep part of the well,
and let it refill at night
from the springs that fed it.”

~Earnest Hemingway

This is one of the very few quotes that helps me keep going when I appear to be looming within my writing.

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