What now?

What now, of words that won’t come?
Guilt, shame, condemnation washed clean in the flood of grace; All ideation and creative inspiration washed away as well.
Ctrl, Alt Dlt – hard-drive cleaned out.
What of that desire to move the world to joy… or pain?
Close my eyes. Breathe deeply.
Cut wood, fill water.
Do the work. Write for discipline.
Believe. It will come.
If it doesn’t, rest in the grace.
Maybe, the words are all gone.
Maybe, it simply is a time to listen. To listen now, forever.
Maybe, the best of what I had to say is said.