The days turn to weeks
then weeks into months
and I absorb all my time
where it would have once
been written into rhyme.

I've settled into the contentment
of not having words to pen
and have no troubled wondering
if I'll ever have them again-

for my job has been done,
my mission fulfilled,
I've touched and inspired
and my heart's been spilled.

My views have been known,
everyone has seen my faces,
my words have been alone
living in other places.

I no longer mourn their departure.
I do not wait for their return.
I don't wonder what happened
to bring this to adjourn

another one opens