Winter Session
The middle of the winter session
my fingers robotic
as they play a song
that lost all its meaning
having become all too familiar
It's a season for a new song
born out of the freshly fallen snow
like the first leaves of tulips
emerging from the ground
to search for the sun
The winter lingers but its defeat
has already been determined
even before the first sight of snow
the new song will last for a while
but it too will be replaced tomorrow
Yeah, yeah. I know I know. I haven't written in what seems to be ages. I've missed it but haven't had the motivation to sit down and write when the inspiration hits me and then the ideas, fleeting as there, are no where to be found when I'm sitting in front of a computer. I tried to restart my journal a la pen but my hands are so not used to writing that it just seems that my hand writing speed is holding me back and my penmanship grosses me out. Oh well. Peace out.
1 comment:
Nice to see you are back. :)
"A season for a new song" Yes:) Let winter be done. The seasons are so like songs, I think. Or even parts of life are like songs. At least for me. So much memory and emotion are wrapped up within music.
I know what you mean about keeping a journal by pen. I used to be able to write and write on paper and never be bothered...but now my hand rebels after minutes!
Isn't awful how fleeting ideas are? Seems that they should stay longer and be more willing to wait for us to keep up with them!
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