The fountainhead appears to be clogged, if not dry. The inspiration doesn’t flow as it did, or should. The passion sulks close to the dew-laden ground. A peculiar restlessness scrapes its rough black nails at my being. And I wonder.
The river that brought me here threatens to stagnate, and the scenery at the shores is unfamiliar. The music doesn’t play. Still I wonder.
But there’s no point in wondering, or stating the status quo. So this is what I plan to do. I plan to shake my head and get up, take out the hammer of ages and start hitting at the source of destiny. Till the fountain starts to flow, and the river breathes afresh.
The thought levitates like a tiny amber spark over the desolate landscape and explodes into a nova. The sky starts to lighten almost instantly.
Image Credit: . Artist Olivier Coipel (from Thor V 3 #1 written by Michael Straczynski)
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