Ode to the Pen

March 16, 2011
A thin stream of ink
slithers across the page
like a snake rushing in
for the kill.
Scribbles and loops
whispering a secret
to those who are able
to hear its language
and comprehend it.
History in the making
controlled by a stick
attached to the hand
of one who truly understands,
etching in stone
the wisdom
of the centuries.
A one-colored rainbow
stretching across the sky,
making the earth spin and
pulling the sun across the horizon
like a butterfly on a string.
The power of life,
the love of life,
the hope that is as
sweet to the soul as music-
all swirling in the realm
of nothingness
until they are captured
by my heart
and travel down to the virgin paper
in a whirl,
rushing out to the souls
of the world
through that powerful, neverending line,
forever running across the page.

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