So freeing is the pen that dances on the page.
So beautiful is the ink that displays.
So strong is the paper that supports.
So refreshing are the words that convey.
How does one go without the pen?
How does one restrain the ink?
How does one avoid the paper?
How does one refrain what they think?
It is such a challenge not to pen.
A challenge to keep the ink dry.
The paper waits in agony
To let the mind cry.
“Here am I. I do exist! My thoughts are burning within!”
They wait for God’s Holy Spirit to permit, “Begin.”
written by Gail Brookshire