An email invitation to be a guest on Saturday morning radio
The topic: How did I find my writer’s voice?
Writer’s voice? What voice? Twelve solitary hours in the writer’s chair.
No food or drink. No ideas or marvelous lines of rhyme and illiteration.
Provacateur requests a yes or no response in the morning.
Sleepless night. Tossing and turning. Groaning. Answerless.
Suspend the sunrise. Halt the Big Ben clock. Deny the deadline.
Crouched on the mattress edge. Black coffee steams on the night stand. How have I become a “kept
man?”
Daily devotion. God you owe me. Give me magic words.
Uh oh, silence becomes darker, more profound.
Takes personal hubris to challenge God. I never learn.
Agnes turns the radio to a classic station in Philly. A morning
ritual at 7:45.
Today’s stratosphere is different. Our kitchen is alive.
“ Mary Did You Know”? The beseeching melody which brought
us to our humbled knees at Christmas Mass on the day
Karen boarded the train to Chicago fills the airways.
Just listen..Trust. Please He begs, listen.
rlhassociates 