Gnawing

I’m gnawing on possibility
the suggestion that my dabbling
could amount to something

What? my gut protests
reminds me of limitations
physical constraints

But I’ve had room to breathe
and resources at hand
and creativity, expansive

dwells in possibility
nibbles at suggestions
mind scrabbles to find

excuses – laundry,
a drawer that needs sorting
but the door has opened

and I’m seeing a path
a way through the noise
a sliver of light beckoning.

(For Ragtag’s daily prompt: gnaw. Image my own.)