People hardly ever believe the fact that I don’t choose when to write and that whatever is is that I want to write about finds me and not the other way around.
The relationship between writing and I is one beyond my control, my poems find me. Poetry has found me through some of the most difficult times in my life, it has also found me at my happiest and sometimes it doesn’t even come looking for me. Its like a stranger that comes and goes hence I cannot claim it as my own, rather a visitor whose arrival I sometimes anticipate for months.
Poetry has been a stranger for the past 8 months; maybe it doesn’t see the need to comfort me, keep me company or add to my joy… Maybe poetry is giving me some time to find myself and resolve my issues, maybe it has packed and gone to never return but until then I’ll stay waiting.
I hope poetry returns to me to fill the blank pages on my notebooks and to give me that unique eye through which I see the world through its metaphors and strong vocabulary.