You paid good money for this retreat. Don't roll your eyes at the guided imagery of quill pens and golden boxes holding your writer-self close to your heart. The idea of a golden box too cold and sharp-edged until you picture it in golden polished wood inlaid with mother-of-pearl, the hinged lid holding back the music of words and phrases not heard in this space for far too long. Open the lid now and let words pour out, the pent-up music, longing to be played. I believe it's not too late. This was written in response to a November 3, 2022 prompt from Miz Quickly. .
the raven's eye 
So often I think it is too late… it’s gone. I just keep plugging along.
I’ve never done a retreat. Do you recommend?
Oh, Debi. I don’t know what to say. I did it on line and it was, by turns, both corny and inspiring. I would like to see how much of the inspirational parts I retain over the next few weeks before I’d recommend it.
Thanks for the honesty.
Never too late! Love this.
I often think it’s too late for this and that, and then I find out (heck, no!) it’s never too late. Love this piece, Barbara. Really good.
Reminds me a bit of Pandora’s box, but in a good way.
Oooh! Great play on chatter/box
Yes, all lids are better opened. Thanks.