Ink

 

This is not a thing that can be taught

 

Neither purchased, borrowed, or sold

 

It transcends these things¾

It is the mist and the wind; it is the dark and the light

 

The hand, guided by some unseen force

 Wrenching words from stone, tearing them from hearts-

Words that fiercely live on the strength of their unknown power-

Endlessly ripping great breaths from inside

 

Words that change and love and hate
Words that contain their own reality
Words achieving immortality

 

On the pages and on the souls of those who partake

 Words that become dreams and thoughts and deeds

Words that become an assemblage of those things that make us

Words forging the world, shaping it,

 

Before the Ink is even dry.