Pestilence of Words

Words, like crickets, leap from my mind –
chirping pests whose trajectory eludes
my dulled reflexes, scuttling around the
periphery of my awareness.

Harmless, really, in the singular; a cacophony in multitudes threatening to multiply further and rob me of this semblance of sanity.

I must intuit their rhythm, define the notes in workable phrases, capture the essence of their meanings and inscribe the message before they disappear again.

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Permission to write, paint, and imagine are the gifts I gave myself when chronic illness hit - a fair exchange: being for doing. Relevance is an attitude. Humour essential.

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