Gotta write this pain off me Light blue ink won’t do.
Gotta write this mess untangled
Tired of feeling blue.
Gotta write through darkness.
Gotta write through fright.
Gotta write til peace has come.
And I see things aright.
-Tekla A. Syers resides in Chicago as a student and teacher of metaphysics; smitten grandmother; dabbler in culinary arts; semi-retired fund development and nonprofit management consultant; and craftswoman. She enjoys music and art in myriad forms and makes time to observe and reflect on why folks and things are as they are.