When one cannot write
It is not writers block.
Writers block is so
suppositious.
One cannot write
for having nothing to say,
when inspiration
is hesitant to choose our branches to sit on anymore.
It means
our tanks,
our hives of words
are empty.
It means that our bees
must go back to the field
where the life is experienced,
in the pivotal point in mirrors
amidst torn and beauty,
bites and sweetness.
where the beauty is composed
and tastes are splashed from proboscis to smell
some splendour,
to gather
some nectar
to fulfill some ambrosiac drams.
Poetry is epiphany
if one can not prophesize no more
the prophecy
is over for now.
