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Writer's pictureDekove Poetry

Creative Infusion

Thinking about the positives of this strange period, I came to one that's close to my heart and has personally lifted me up.


During this time of 'disconnection' in which we globally have 'paused' life as we know it, something happened.


I know a lot happened. Without minimizing or rendering any of it unimportant. Without forgetting or making light of the darker side of this year, something else happened.


An influx of ideas that were before lying dormant have awoken within me. As if restrictions and slowing down of life cleared the fog off my shackled mind. Past dreams and loves are reconnecting. I feel my creative mind that had paused back to a time when worries were not many and life prioritized my 'dreamer' self to my analytical and logistical one had restarted.


An explosion of creativity has infected me in a beautiful and intoxicating way. I woder how much more beauty has been created in our separate isolations. How many new colours and phrases are being made as I type.


Don't get me wrong. I'm not saying that I wake up every day filled with positivity and ideas. I have many days of struggle where words run from me. Days where my fingers freeze and my mind glosses over. They're just not as many as the days where words flow.


My heart settles in itself on those days. I breathe easier. My mind and body feel lighter and my problems drift away. It is as if the air around me is filled with light. I'm protected by my words. They lift me higher and take me to a place of hope and new beginnings.


Before the pandemic began I felt stuck in my own skin. I had forgotten my loves and passions. Almost forgotten living. Such a tragic and sad phrase. My will did not seem my own. My words trapped within me in their own dark hell. Words that only formed rigid logic were used when needed. They too seemed soulless. Drifting past with limited drive. Suffocating in their oppressive rigidity.


I had forgotten me.


As life flowed past and pushed forward, I had forgotten my passions and dreams. Lost in a cycle of putting myself second I didn't know how to break free and recover what I had lost. It seemed exhausting and bleak. I ignored my unhappiness and settled in it subconsiously.


Humanity has many flaws but one particular strength is our resilience. We survive and make the best of situations. With time, we create and reemerge stronger. Sometimes it may take the form of a tragedy or horrific event to shake us awake.


I was shaken at a time I would normally stand still.


A time where pressures and distractions from outside were at a minimum I started to see me. I started to miss me. Miss my wants and dreams. I started to reach for them. They reached back. Gripped tight. They formed words. My silent voice slowly made sounds. It trembled but it grew in strength. It embraced me once more.


My antidote. My cure. My saviour. This creative infusion that could only exist under such conditions. My miracle in the shape of words.


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