Drifting Through A Fog

(On suffering writer's block)

A fog drifts through the gaps of my mind,
haze as a mist hangs between hills and valleys--
low floating clouds on a humid day.

Thoughts harbor in silence, suspend,
then chatter away about nothing,
about everything at once.

Cranial grayness filters the light, hides the crannies,
glides through a part of me that reflects
how my brain got stuck, dangled in midair.

I sit here dazed with nothing to write,
wondering where the next word comes from.
Must I cull utterance from my next-door
neighbor's cigarette smoke? So be it.

I'd rather grasp them from coolness
of my living room air conditioner. Maybe
that will blow away and free me from congestion.

Faith

it is when you lose dignity –
that voice from above
or inside you
becomes relevant
and you know its sincerity
a credence above self-doubt
strengthening allegiance to beliefs
pledging to make things better
and it gets better
if you commit to it
like an oath to others
plus support they give you
as you trust them to do
that helps regain self-confidence
your God-self
an internal faith
that keeps you going