image by Chasity...thank you so much for sharing it in the i-studio flickr pool.
You can view Chasity's photos on her blog, The Road Less Traveled
or visit her stream for further inspiration
The words are quiet. They don't whisper. They don't move. They don't give themselves away. They don't dance in the wind like laundry on the line.
In this silence, I reminisce on the times of wordy abundance. I wait for my creative epiphany to reveal itself. I search within. I dig for the stories that play on my eyelids as I flutter off to sleep. I wonder who, this time, will break my silence.
I pray and know the words will someday come again.
What do you do to rekindle the memories that refuse to write themselves?
How do you preserve yesterday for tomorrow?