Ode to Writer's Block

"Ode to Writer's Block"
For Helen

Wandering into the Nod-
Where lightening strikes, but refuses the rod-
Where inspiration is not a fish you can catch-
Where demons fitfully laugh with your every move,
As you slide your hand over every groove,
And every egg refuses to hatch.

"Why? Oh, why?" I ask the clouds,
Is it that my mind and soul is in a drought?
Is it because my mind and soul is finally wrung out?
Or is it because those demons laugh so loud?
I ask again, "Why? Oh, why?
But all I hear in reply
Is the echo of the questions asked-
As if that echo alone were a cosmic sigh.