What Can I Say?

Staring at this blank page,
I wonder what I want to say.
What' that thought
or image
rattling around inside?
What is ready to release.....

Pop!
Like a cork of a good champagne
opened for the first time,
now bubbling out and over the edges.
There must be something brewing,
stewing,
ready to come forth.

But, here I am,
just me and this blank page.
A blank mind,
a blank heart.
Am I really that empty?

At first,
the ideas and thoughts came pouring out
like a tidal wave,
not stopping as my pen
crashed across the paper
spilling forth words,
phrases,
all the wonderings and musings
bottled inside.

And now, I look at the landscape before me,
and wonder
exactly how I begin
the trickling brook again.
How,
now that there is peace
from the chaos,
do I allow the water to flow?
Those words that cleanse my soul
and nourish my spirit.

Now, there is a different pressure building.
The pressure to write,
to keep saying what's inside.
And yet, nothing but the blank page....

....oh, and this little poem;
the first raindrops of a thought.
Like when I first learned
to meditate.
I thought to myself over and over again:
"Nothing, nothing nothing....
...I'm thinking about nothing...."

Then BLAM!
I found myself in the stillness I sought.
A quick taste,
a momentary glimpes,
and then it was gone.
However, the snapshot was there.
The dam that blocked my view
had cracked open,
just a bit.

So, here, too, this poem
may be that first trickling bit.
But for now,
I'm staring at this...
not quite so....
blank page.