As it turns out, I didn’t quit on writing or fall into a writer’s block,
I had not run out of things to say or ways to experience the world.
I fell into a deep silence, sitting in a kind of well without water,
No momentum to flourish, no observations to shape into words.
In this silence I made great friends with darkness, allowing myself
to slip between the covers of night and day, listening to hope;
transforming deep breaths into sleep and awareness into light;
welcomed, embraced without demands, I kept watch and waited.

So much happened in the time between then and now.
Just as the seasons were transforming my mountain horizon
into green leafed mansions that moved with the winds,
fear covered the earth world with illness, and forced solitude.
From my personal space I witnessed what I could not deny:
prejudices perpetuate tyranny, the pain of injustice grows
like a deadly virus until it finally takes our collective breath away.

As a people we need more than words that call for action,
more than good intentions to stand in solidarity with others;
We need voices of wise leaders willing to take risks and
oppose status quo. We need to hear the narratives of those
who know injustice and come through on the side of hope,
voices providing assurance, guidance on how to replace
violence with de-escalation, confrontation with active listening.
We cannot relive the past; this is a time to transform the future.

Pulled by the energy of necessity, making my way out
of the well of wordless darkness, I push away the ever
present doubt that I can make a difference, the question
of what can I say that others have not offered before me.
In the confinement of a well, and the space of solitude
I discover I am never alone; my thoughts are energy
creating waves, connecting me with a world others;
bound together we create momentum for change.