a leap

I felt i had died,
but it wasnt the end.
my soul had left,
for a sojourn far away,
until i missed it  terribly
and found it difficult
to breathe and blink.
one day…
as coffee and cream and a pen
rested on the mahogany top
the sun shone on my face.
it was floating back to me
so were ideas and imagination
words and lyrics.
all dancing in with the suspended mote.
the golden glitter of the sun
fell on my paraphernalia
lying on the mahogany,
like an unsolved math problem
until there was a spill of coffee and cream.
the ink on the page,
the colour on wood,
the pen on the edge,
spoke of the aroma.
it had come back to me…

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