A Blank Page

 One day a little boy watched an artist sit and stare at massive stone.
The next week the little boy came back to see the block but saw a stone lion in its place.
He asked the artist, “How did you know that was in there”?

This blank page stares at me. It dares me to blink.
It’s open to anything. Well, almost anything.
It’s restricted to the characters my keyboard can create.
Or picture I can insert.
Or video I can embed.
Or link I can attach.
Oh! The possibilities!

Writers blocks are not road blocks. Not a dam damming water.
But a block.
A chunk of wood.
Of stone, marble or granite.
Waiting to be carved.
Blank. Yet, something hides within. Patiently waiting to be discovered.
Uncovered. Set free.

I’ve got a block and I contemplate its destiny.
Its fate.
What do I write when I don’t know what to write?
I
type a letter
                  which becomes a word
                                                       a sentence
                                                                        a paragraph
                                                                                           a story.

And yes.
I sometimes see my kids as blocks

blank pages,
unwritten stories,

Sometimes I like what I write.
But I often need to edit.

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