Last night I couldn’t fall asleep.  I lay listening to the soft tick-tock of an old clock on top of the blanket chest.  And I wrote my first poem since my college days.  One of my majors was English with a Creative Writing emphasis.  I always struggled with poetry – prose was more my thing.

This poem just showed up in my head.  Unannounced, unplanned, unedited.  It was just there and I kind of like it.

Here goes:

The tick-tock of the clock

is the sound of old.

New time is silent,

Yet holds all the noise

of the world.

Why a poem now?  I don’t know.  Maybe it’s best to not question creative gifts.