Pardon my hiatus for me and my thoughts have tried to continue forming words.
Anytime I hold the pen, zilch.
Writers block they say, but this block heavy.
Feels like a millstone tied against my neck, dropped in the deepest part of the pacific.
I am under, drowning.
Creativity deserts me, my brain a desert.
Usually the pen is my oasis of calm in these times.
Not this time.
I hunger to write but how to feed this desire.
My mind is in a jam, It’s rush hour.
I need to park and reevaluate.
Mama taught me to pray in difficult times.
I need Him, I don’t pray no more, I can’t pray.
How many sins? I’m running out.
Too many sins. I lost count.
If today was the rapture, I’ll completely be wiped out.
Trapped my mind trying to free the body.
Let me take you on a trip down memory lane.
The eyes had to be opened, I sought after the fruit.
Needed my vision transformed to optimal prime.
Finding that tree took me deeper into the grove.
Soon became lost.
Just because I’m lost doesn’t mean I’ll stop.
Further I thrust myself into the unknown.
No consideration for safety and knowing not what I would encounter.
Deep in the orchard was when I first saw him.
Fiend was his name.
Told him of my predicament.
He took an instant liking to me and asked if he could be my guide in this world.
Fiend grew up here.
Knows every route and path, each tree and it’s fruit.
My new friend Fiend said I wasn’t the first nor will I be the last to seek the great ophthalmologist.
Was a bit gutted to find out millions came before me.
We walked and talked; talked and talked.
Then he stops and points, I go towards it.
Fiend would come no further.
Natives can’t go to the tree claims Fiend, the owner put a hex on it.
“Why this tree Fiend?” I asked.
“It isn’t relevant, it’s all a bit technical, the tree is all yours”.
I’m no native, I take a tentative step forward.
This is it.
I take a deep breath and then another.
I Pluck the fruit, sink my teeth into…Heavenly!!!
The sky’s the limit, I’m on cloud nine.
Before long man has downed three of them.
He’s gone, I try looking for him, no avail.
Been a while but my vision still hasn’t changed.
I might be naked!
I Take a look over my body, cross nudity off.
It’s getting dark, I decide to rest for the night.
Morning has arrived, something’s not right.
Head is throbbing
The events of the previous day a blur.
I look around and see the sign:
ברוכים הבאים לגת שמנים.
“Welcome to Gethsemane”