Part of my brain wants to write.
Part of my brain is tired.
Part of my brain says it is alright.
One project completed.
A new one started.
Old ones standing on the self.
Waiting for my body to heal.
Waiting for the doctors to start the next test.
Waiting for the result that may change my future.
Such is the pain in my brain,
fearing to start,
fearing to dare to dream of new paths.
To start or not to start.
To watch the clouds drift across an uncertain sky.
While my fingers hover over the keys,
waiting in between the failing of the day
and the start of a new day.
Waiting in between the passing of the cloud
and warming of the sun, my mind seeks the rest of night
while my soul wishes to ride the winds and find the sun.
Till next week,