Writer

For over a year, I have sat down to write and this phrase came to mind. I was a faucet with no running water.

I have nothing to say 
That is the fear of a writer 
The voice of shame 
Convincing me of its darkness 

Pleading with me to break into the pain of its secret, which is this:
What is most broken 
(The very axis of inaction) 
Is the same as a lost sun aching for its sky 

Obey the law of nature 
And write because 
From within the crack rises
The impossible light of the world