There are times, when life seems quite mundane, plain, even boring. We travel through our days doing our routines. Work, home, running kids to soccer practice, darts, whatever it is that occupies our time till the next work day. We go through time in a rut and think little of it. Then, for me at least, I read a poem. In an instant I am transported to another world, another time, another mind. I read and the words do something to my soul. They touch me in a way no woman ever has. The gently stroke my sorrows, caress my aches, hug my dying dreams. The words give me life, though I know it is only borrowed time, still I rejoice in the moment of rebirth, while at the same time I know, in the dark recesses of my mind, that the rut awaits and if the words do not come again, to save me in time, I shall lie down and simply cease to be.