A Journey in Creative Disipline Day 1

I have been told by countless men and women that my voice is my creation. I have been told that I have a gift that must be shared with others. With that voice, I will earn my living; with that voice, I will sell books; with that voice, I can do anything that I desire to do. The world is my playground, and I can do, and yes if you will...must...write.
It has been difficult for me to write for the past eight years. The day that my father died was the day that I wrote my last poem. As much as I tried, the words would not come. Yet, the other day the poem came to me, my heart was touched and I knew that it was time for me to write again. The poem in search of inspiration is truly the first serious poem I have written in years.
Writing, for me, at this time in my life, is a discipline, requiring persistence and passion. It is my creative journey to the inner depths of my being. I begin the search for that creativity that has lain dormant for so very long. It reminds me of a caterpillar, lying in wait in the cocoon, waiting to be transformed into a butterfly. Freedom to express the beauty inherent in her being.
I am creative and passionate in my work. I engage with others to help them discover their passions, their creativity, their heart and soul. In the process I have lost myself so I am here to dig through the mush in the bog, slush through the
murky swamp to break free, to bask in the clear clean waters, sifting through the weeds, coming to the clarity of my vision.
I met a man yesterday who told me if I wrote everyday, on a blog, that eventually the damn would burst and I would be free. I am willing to do so, for that itchiness has been dwelling within me for a very long time. We shall see where this goes and what develops.
Because this is a discipline for me, I promise myself to write each and every day. Some of these days my words might have no meaning to anyone but myself. Other days I might touch someone with my experience. Occasionally I will post a poem that I have written in the past, as poetry is something that just comes. Actually when I used to write poetry, the words just flowed through, as if I were not writing at all. The pen just glided across the paper and voila....there was this birthing of words, that surprised even me...and so it was...
...in posting my blog, it is my hope to meet some like minded people, to have some constructive criticism and make some lasting friendships. I used to love to write and I hope that in doing as was suggested that this love will become a part of me again.