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Trickling over my mind
Came scampering the question
This dilemma of a heart
Come running into my embrace
Stricken with fright

It asked me
Father, why do we write
And so I dipped my feather in the darkness of my mind
And brought forth my answer 

I wrote of fear and the love that comes at a dreadful cost
Of meaning and of the fight for knowledge 
I wrote for voices unheard
I cried for emotions long forgotten
And the answer came to me as the tears wrote their own tale
Painted in pain was the image of a long forgotten glory
Of emotions left unstirred
Come to see what these words have conspired 
Come to see how these words have called them from their sleep
To ensue in them an undaunted hunger

Well my dear son
Here comes my answer to you
I write not for you
Nor for me
I write for what is within you
What has bubbled forth within me
I write to stir the masses
Unchained, unhindered
Willful subjects of our being
They huddle in wait
The towering limestones of their cave grow eon by eon
As they rot away, moment by moment
I write for them
We write for the grim
The unnoticed prestige
We write for what you have neglected to see
To bring it forth before your eyes
To fix your head with an iron collar
To make you a slave of our direction
We write to be your masters, when you need one most
We write to fix your gaze on what you have never lost
We write to drag forth from the depths of your inky heart

We are the harbingers of emotion
Be it hate or lust
The unseen veil of ignorance, or to shatter the blinding globe of pride
We are the harbingers of sight
With our binding collars, our guiding feathers, dripping the black sweat of our labored toil
You will come to see
What has not been seen before
We are
Fathers of a relationship sown by words, sealed by the dawning of the sun, the dawning of 
realization
We are 
Your feathers, to your wings or to your ink

And feathers will flutter
Bearing you into the frigid embrace of the skies
And when the winds will them no more
We will descend upon the ground
And speak to the earth as we are reclaimed in its rough embrace
We will write to the trees, when we cannot write to the birds, the sun, and the sky
And through the trees we will see the stars
And to them we will write about the shade
Harbingers indeed.

© Samir Georges
2010

Edited for Deb's Free Verse Contest on why we write.
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