How I Got My Writing Groove Back
Contributor
Written by
Yejide Kilanko
July 2011
Contributor
Written by
Yejide Kilanko
July 2011

I have always had a love affair with words. My mother once told me that I came out of her womb talking. I still talk a lot despite several attempts to re-invent myself into this alluring mysterious woman. I have never made it past the second day. Oh well.

You can imagine my joy, when I found out I could take all those words in my head and write them down on paper. That was the day a writer was born. I wrote when I was happy, sad and during the other times in-between.

And then for a period of nine years, I found myself unable to write. Nothing rhymed. The words fell flat and heavy on pieces of paper that were scrunched up and thrown in the trash. Inside my head, it was all silent. It felt as if I had lost my voice.

February 2009, brought an awakening. I had come across a series of notes written by a friend on Facebook and suddenly, I wanted to write again. The poem below was the first thing I wrote in that month and I have not stopped writing since then.

I decided to share this today because I am sure there is someone out there who may be searching for their voice. You are here because it is your dream, your passion, your gift to write. Never give up trying because when it all comes together, it is so beautiful.


The Outpour

I am that elegant rosebud slowly unfolding in the sun.

The tropical flower embracing life’s warmth with quivering petals.

I am the spunky nightingale who got her silky voice back.

The jolly finch bellowing out joyful tunes at the tops of her lungs.

 

It is that inner revelation to an eagle of its’ ability to soar high

in an endless blue sky with the promise of a rainbow.

The inner bubbling of overflowing words that mimic the

the unexpected eruptions from a long dormant volcano.

 

Be still and listen, as you experience the spectacular wildness

and magnificence of a mid-afternoon thunderstorm.

A remarkable clash and display of light and sound that

leaves one’s senses tingling from the electricity in the air.

 

I stand in the rain, feeling the soft pelt of raindrops on my skin.

Knowing that for me, this is another season of mind stretching.

Oh the sheer joy of being alive and feeling so alive.

I tilt my head back and laugh out triumphantly into the wind.

 

Question for SheWriters : If you've ever lost it, how did you get your writing groove back?

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