Perhaps you’re wondering where I’ve been, why I haven’t posted in a month.

Maybe I’m wondering, too.

Look, I don’t have a good explanation for you. Sometimes writers—writers like me, anyway—get distracted. I’ve been busy, and I’ve been lazy. Mostly, I’ve been dreaming, and then dreaming some more.

I’ve missed your posts, and will try to catch up on my reading soon. I didn’t stop writing, and I’ve written a few posts of my own while I’ve been out. They need a little polishing, but I will start putting them up soon just in case any of you are bored and looking for something to read.

In the meantime, I also took some time to write a poem. See if you like it, or can make any sense of it for me. I truly don’t understand it myself. I don’t write much poetry, and when it arrived, it surprised me like limes and oranges at Christmas. It feels pretty and gentle, and could use a proper title reflecting that feeling. Like almost everything I write, I’m afraid it’s just another Pelennorian pebble lost in a vast field of stones.

I stared at the Pleiades,
Shimmering in the winter sky.
Picked a night flower,
Lit by a diaphanous moon.
Drank Taigan water,
Tumbling over smooth stones.
Explored a secret titanium mine,
Sparkling and bright.
Nibbled on a chocolate truffle,
Served on Antediluvian china.
Traced amaranth pink,
At the tip of an artist’s brush.
Tasted raspberry pie,
Drizzled with fresh cream.
Held an aureated nectarine,
Set with amethysts.
Leaned against an autumn birch,
Standing apart from the grove.

I forged a tiny boat,
From hammered copper and iron,
And sailed the vast mirrored sea,
Rising with steam.

I scaled mountains of iron,
Awoke a great brown bear,
Spoke its name out loud,
And wrestled it to the ground.

I envied the wind,
Blowing through the Boreal forests,
Scented with lightening and rain,
Encircling the Earth with its crystalline sash.

I sang a creation song,
In the morning,
And again at night,
And did not feel so alone.