MasterPiece

When it comes to writing, I believe in the "Big Bang Theory." I keep throwing up ideas, tossing and flinging, flirting carelessly with each thought as I turn it loose, through the day and into the night. I'm waiting for the big bang. That's when everything that's been tossed up will come floating down in perfect harmony and land, --a masterpiece, every word in its proper place.
Somewhere up there, that special story lies hidden just out of view. It will tease and tantalize me until just the right moment and then begin bursting forth like a 4th of July sky, spreading color from horizon to horizon. Until then I will prepare for my long hours of travail. A pad and pencil lay beside my bed, another on the kitchen table. Reminders, as I pass by, "Aha, nothing yet, huh? You know everyone else has their's finished, don't you?"
"You shush your mouth," I tell myself. As time passes, my expectations begin to wilt. A masterpiece would be nice, a good story will do. With pinched brow I watch expectantly toward the sky above for a sign. Have you ever wondered how a thought flies with the wings of a bird? An interesting idea, huh? So why do I lay here into the wee hours, even my thoughts barricaded within, chained down and fastened securely, never to
see the light of day. I tell myself reassuringly, "Where there's a will there's a way." All crumpled in bed, I take pen in hand and begin writing anything, anything at all. No, this just doesn't get it. "Oh, baron sky, shower down on me!" That's it, it's time to shower.
Showering in the morning has its rewards. Tiny droplets of water fall like springtime rain. A steady stream, softly falling to the beat of the coffee pot, bubbling and burping until its aroma fills the house. The beat is established. Sounds of a far off drum are beckoning....Where's my pen?