Sondering Stars

(or: Writing on the Right Side of the Brain)

Courtesy of a wandering
Mind, I find myself
Circling the clock

Of the heart through echoes

Of time, looking to luck
Up on some newfound energy
To break the monotony

& escape the hell

Of being held hostage
By writer’s block. Granted,
I was preoccupied

With the necessary

Agony of watching my
Mother’s
Mortality teeter for
Six weeks
& four days
Like riding a seesaw.

& then, when dad called

& said, “she’s gone,” I
Wailed like a newborn
Who’d just learned to cry.

& then, after
The seesaw, I saw
People flock to the hall

Standing room only, to

Share in her life’s
Labor of love…& felt
Her call, “Michael,

I told you not to worry
‘Bout me; but, now

That you’re fluent
In the right brain, in you
Is a world of words

Left to draw.”

“But Mama, I write.”

“Exactly! imagine
All of the sondering stars
Unfelt & unsown.”

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