Sometimes I run on empty —

or so it seems to me.


The author of my energy

has ceased his creativity.


‘Tis a wonder I can think enough

to write this stuff.


This is no bluff —

it’s  a consequence of longevity.


It deprives one of his levity.


For me, I think and trust

there’s  brevity in this affliction.


I’ll momentarily yield

but then I’ll grapple

and  tackle this with prayer.


Even now

a modicum of hope is there

currently obscured by lethargy.


But you will see.


You’ll hear from me

for more is yet to be.


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