Ode to Writing

Pleasure of writing

Photo by Thought Catalog on Unsplash

There’s so much beauty

In the melody of pencil striking paper —

Stylus stroking tablet.

And even if the ancient practice has faded

Into the clipping clap of resounding keys

Echoing into the emptiness of a studio apartment,

I still remember the song told by

The rustic scratch of graphite on bark

Serried into a more pleasing aesthetic.

Both creator and muse,

I owe it all to the voice of my hands,

As it suspends both time and space

In this sacred embrace

Of soul and paper.

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