It's Time

Time to shake loose
all these words in my head.
Without trepidation,
but with courage instead.
Words that will tumble,
as if from a jar,
landing on paper
by aching wrist.
Don't stop now;
my mind does insist.
Write all you can.
Do it right now,
stopping not to think,
just do it.
You do know how
surprisingly the "spring
has run dry."
I'll ask you later.
Please tell me why.