The Lonely Lost Poet

I wanted to write but saw forest instead
while loud chirping noises were filling my head.
"Go away!" the birds chirped, "We don't want you here!"
So off I had gone when I came across deer.

The deer were so startled, they ran away fast
with two frightened squirrels that also raced past.
The bugs and the butterflies seemed not to care.
I plopped myself down on a stump to prepare.

I heard eerie sounds when the wind pushed the trees,
but sounds were not words I could write down with ease.
The high-above limbs had creaked strangely in sway
and darkened surroundings in most frightful way.

My phrases eluded and wouldn't take shape
here stuck in this forest without an escape.
Distractions harassed me and it was not right.
Disturbed concentration did not let me write.

This lost, lonely poet, still empty of rhyme,
gave way to the thought that it just wasn't time
to find my way out of this forest of words
still hearing the echo of mean heckling birds.

I thought, "I'll not bother to pen one today"
so wadded my paper and tossed it away.
The winds didn't care- in fact, nobody knew
it flew right across the small clearing from view.

As wind grew momentum, my work was in vain.
A chill ran down through me. It started to rain.
Self-pity took over. I drowned in my fears
as rain streaked my cheeks all commingled with tears.

"But wait!" I then jabbered, "just look what God's done!
He wrote this here poem and wrote it in fun."
I'll not be discouraged when mind has turned numb.
I'll not sit here sulking when words do not come.

The rain had stopped falling. Clouds faded away.
And trees disappeared as I went on my way.
To tune out distractions and those noisy birds,
just listen intently for God's greater words.

This poem was a finalist in the April 2020 poetry contest