Results of Ruminations

I wrote this poem a while back when I was in a somewhat similar situation as I am in currently: Writer Blocks Waiting to be able to write is worse Than a five year old on Christmas Eve, Worse than nine months' gestation To an elephantine mother. Yes, it feels great when it leaves, Like a virus expelled, or house guests― Like a bladder held too long getting relief. Though it feels great in the releasing, It doesn't feel great in the holding. Inability to write is holding glass in the hand, Painful, bleeding, possibly damaging. Holding anything in isn't recommended (Nine out of ten Surgeons General say so), Like breath or love or a story. So that's what it becomes, then, These mighty weights in the brain: Blocks upon which a tale is written, Cement stories, laid brick by brick, Word by word, letter by letter, Thought by thought. The writer Isn't blocked, but blocks the writing. Except in this case, when he sits And types a free verse poem And wishes he were ...

My general ruminations that I had at the end of last school year were expected by me at the end of this school year. Yet none came. I think, in large part, that is because of the pending surgery of Peter. Gayle's constant updating and analysis are elsewhere in the cloud, so I won't bother repeating them here. Suffice to say: He's recovering well, he's obviously in quite a bit of pain, and we're thrilled that the 5 and a half hours of surgery had such success. We anticipate being in the hospital for the next week to week and a half, though that's always a loose guess in situations such as these. We're grateful for the prayers, thoughts, comments, and well-wishes from friends and family, as well as the support of our parents as we've worked through this complex and difficult time. In other news, I finished my first reread of Words of the Silenced while at the hospital (we've had a lot of downtime in the last couple of days). It's perhaps 3/4 of wh...