Pause

A bit of writer's block, those insanely fit enough to call themselves normal in this day and age might call it.

It is a newness, that which I search for. Not that of a Spring Tulip, moistened by the morning dew. However, a newness that resounds and recreates the idea of Spring. A newness that has it's own moisture. Where by, how can we call Spring, new, went it cycles every 365.3 days.

That which I seek, and am coming upon shall not bring full circle, my thoughts, but shall recreate them.

Bare with me.
KJ