why don’t you try writing something else

I wrote an amazing poem, it was about how spiders build, create, manifest, and weave magic into reality. All that power all that precious precision, diligence, patience, passion… all in silence, the poem is going to be called “set ablaze to the Web” to signify the completion and performance of all the hard work and efforts that'd gone into spinning what has been spun, a spectacular spectacle, the sight of a burning web.

Each thread now glistening with vigour, never to be missed in the light again, to be accidentally walked into and broken, to have to spin again and again, tearful raindrops will no longer tear through the web… I could keep going but that poem can’t find its way back to me yet as it got lost, the feelings I felt as I wrote that poem now have dissipated, and the emotions that wrapped around the words are suffocated of air, for now.

It hurt to see it go and I’ve been trying to get it back ever since, but there is no need to rush or push when crafting a creation, so why don’t I write something else…

I’ve closed one book and I'm now shuffling around for the other,

Velma and her glasses,

each day that passes feels as if I’m still looking around for the sight I think I've lost, that’s the thing, this feeling feels familiar, another awakening, but this time is the most strangest as it is also surrounded by so much luck, so much abundance, so much vision, yet something in my mind body and soul is shuffling around.

What does that mean? I don’t know, I don’t have all the answers, I shouldn’t have all the answers because then there will be no more questions to ask, and what would life be without questions, very empty, how boring,

this time is very confusing and irritating I can admit but I’ve only been getting messages of upliftment or confirmation of love and reassurance, Thank you spirit family and beyond, Thank you Red ribbon loves.

Trusting, believing, keeping faith and breathing, that’s all I need to do right now, that’s all I have been doing for 4 months now, these irritant and tedious feelings only mean here it comes, translates to the best is yet to come, and so I will patiently breathe through this uncomfortable rocky period, I am also excited to finish that other poem because I know the second wave of it will be even more spectacular.