re-acquaint the pen with my hand

I have forgotten how to hold my pen –
index, middle and thumb?
index and thumb?
concave or convex?
thumb tucked in or overlapped?

I write a line, or a word,
then my fingers fumble and fidget,
switch to a different position
then switch again a few words later.

What was once a natural extension of my hand
now lives in the unfamiliar.
Half the process now, requires learning
how to enable the pen to rest
within my fingers and thumb
to scratch legible letters,
never mind focusing my mind enough
to connect thoughts into coherency
to write at all.

I have been away from the page
for so long
the practice, the rituals I once knew
and depended on,
are foreign.

Long ago
(or what seems like long ago)
I began this practice
fumbling and learning and
constantly switching my fingers around the pen
just like I am now.

This is a chance to begin again
to re-acquaint the pen with my hand
and begin walking along a new trail
of the forest.

the familiar returns

Resuming a sense of normalcy
from before, before the world changed.
But, isn’t the world always changing
and we just hardly notice?

The familiar offers comfort and routine
back into the voids structure has vacated.
Remember when this was all we knew
and expected?

My perspective has changed
and maybe, so have I in this process.
I feel little familiarity, scarce comfort;
unease and inquisition sit with me instead,
surrounded by those basking in normalcy’s return.
Must it all return to how it was before?