"When The Words Run Dry"

[Poems in Recovery pt.1]

I wrote this poem after a night of turmoil, grief, and heartache. I kneeled down to pray and found myself absent of any further words to offer to God. My "Words had Run Dry." It was at this moment that I felt my spirit speaking for me on my behalf. It was as if the USB drive of my soul was being uploaded into God's network, free of any effort or conscious thought on my part. When I sat down to pray, my words were barren, and void. I was lost. As I continued to kneel, the words of my heart began to flow. Before I knew it- the "victor"- my spirit, had been chosen, absent of any luxurious niceties, flair, or shine. I had become used to packaging a pretty prayer of "Gold and Silver", assuming this was the only way to approach God. By the end of the prayer - a "champion" - my unadulterated, uncensored, raw soul- was born, forever changing my attitude and understanding of prayer, and approaching God's presence.

"When the words run dry - empty, void- a chasm of undeniable barren existence which thrive on the wayward souls of the lost and wandering

the once celestial, fertile shores of the spirit, depleted like a whispered breath in the wind, dancing in the ever expanding universe of unanswered questions

when the words run dry - vestigial, reticent- harmonious rhythms of unaccompanied, misinterpreted joy dwindle ever so softly, crying out for validation, helplessly seeking shelter in the dreams of yesterday, lackluster and all

when the words run dry- alas the victor is chosen- unbeknownst to stars and galaxies far far away, humbly making due with such meager means, insulting the Gods of silver and gold, defiantly disregarding race, gender or creed

when the words run dry- a champion is born, etching its name in the annals of time, carving its undesired, unearned, divinely ordained place in the cosmos- once and for all."

[Spencer Brooks Otto]