The Blank Page

A blank page is before me. It looks somewhat intimidating and challenging but exciting at the same time.
A clean white sheet of paper waiting for my thoughts lies there. It waits for my thoughts to fill it. Shall I write letters to friends? Start a story? Author an essay? Compose a poem? Breathe a prayer?
As the ink flows, so do my ideas. Words come into my mind and out through my fingers. The pen moves. Black lines form the symbols of words. The things I see out my window become images in my eyes that transform onto the page.
Hope begins to blossom. I may get a whole page today. My muse smiles encouragement to me as I pause. She whispers in my ear, “Keep up the good work. Be brave.” So I continue, still not knowing where this will end.
Oh dear! Where did that thought go? I had an idea, but it slipped away before I could get it down. Will I find it again? Will another take its place? Can I keep the doubts at bay and just continue moving the pen? What’s next? A list? A question? How do I proceed? What’s the next sentence?
Well, as you can see, I’m done now. I covered the blank page with my scribbles until there is no more room and nothing more to say.
Good enough for now.