I was going through some old files and I found this poem I wrote back in 2003.  I never published it anywhere, so I thought it would make a good blog post. I like the poem overall, but thought the tidy little ending was a bit trite. I’d end it differently now. But I think that’s the magic of creativity. It comes from where you are at the time and captures it.  A photograph of the soul, preserved in picas and fonts.

Oh, and from my trip down memory lane, I also learned that apparently Word files don’t archive well. It was a pain to open and reformat this.

Hmmm….notes for the future. Let’s not swear off printers.

Stalemate

Logic and reason,
Chance and fate
And God atop His throne in silence
I call upon you now
My muses to save me

Save from the questions.
Questions with no answers
Problems with no solutions
And madness with no method
Running together in my head

Same and again we dance
An endless waltz around
This rat’s wheel circle

Of problems, possibilities
And moves blocked by this and that.
Muses save me now–from the agony
Of nights where sweet slumber does escape me.
Of days not lived but through
The desperate deliberation of
Blacks and whites blurring into gray

This entertaining of my unwelcome guest
Has left me bleary-eyed and numb

Staring over and again at
The king, rook and the queen
And wishing I could call the game

But I cannot call the game
Because it is not mine
It is the game of Another
I am but a piece
And He is the King.

And I….I can finally rest