I’m in the palm of nature
beautiful yellow flowers
balancing me
deep cliffs settling me.
I’m all puffed up
Ready to write
but no poem spins out.
Except wanting to express
My so full state of blown inspiration.
Usually which is a prelude
to creating poetry
and more poetry
and more.
Today the prelude
to writing is the focus.
Worth putting pen to paper
and writing for entrance
of a myriad of poems.
Which are not happening.
But still I am enjoying
floating on puffiness
of inspiration.