The Ink Is Calling

Suspended moments between the lines,
  my mind now lost in space

Sublimated syntax buried deep,
  my spirit free to race

The light unfiltered, the sound of horns,
  my body starts to rise

The ink is calling, my pen in hand,
  new words at last—arrive

(Villanova Pennsylvania: March, 2017)
Copyright © | Year Posted 2017

Poem

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Merryman Avatar
March 29, 2017 at 10:23 PM
Good one, Kurt! The ink is calling me but the words aren't coming at all. Blessings, Kim
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