Morning Pages

Left alone with my own worst enemy,

There is nowhere to hide here.

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Torturous, like pulling teeth from a chicken

(Do chickens even have teeth?)

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Focus, you, sit and write

Do not get up ‘til three pages are filled.

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Endless chatter, to-do lists scurry

I, I, myself, me–enough of that!

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Intrusive thoughts break the flow

An evil one invades my pages.

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I hate her, I wish for her

What she most despises–to get really fat.

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I record the blurts that arise

The evil one’s tormenting is noted.

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Quotes galore tumble ‘round my head

The onus on me not to perform but to act

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The stereotypical starving artist

Is merely a stereotype I reject.

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Run…walk…crawl to the final line

A petition, a whine, a whimper to the Lord Almighty.

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A pleading in my spirit

I beg for meaning in my wanderings.

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“Do or do not, there is no try!”

Lift yourself and go forth into your destiny.

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“I believe, Lord, help my unbelief.”

Working out the details

With fear and trembling.

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I will live, move, and have my being.

“He who began a good work in you

Will bring it to completion.”