Ode to My Pen

Tue, 07/23/2013 - 23:14 -- Mco2p

I saw it among the others,
the bright dazzling purple pen caught my eye.
I knew I must have it.
I must rescue it from the dull colors surrrounding it.
Eager to use my prize,
I drop its point on my paper.
So smoothly it writes.
Silky violet ribbons flow from its tip.
The tap my pen makes as it hits the paper
is like music to my ears.
It plays a sweet rhythm,
like the harmonious chirps of birds on a sunny afternoon.
It feels so right in my hand
like it was meant to be there.
Just as a wizard who found his wand,
or a noble knight, his sword.
Swirling and swishing on the creamy sheet.
Soft yet bold.
Empty yet full.
Subtle yet boasting.
I continue to write.
Bright flower-like blossoms of words
strung together with majestic purple threads
in perfect cursive.
My heart spills out onto the paper
through my pen's inky tip.
It is a ballerina dancing gracefully on her paper stage.
Gliding along the page like leaves blowing in a gentle breaze,
or the soft current of a quiet stream.
Free as an eagle soaring through the sky,
raging like a wildfire.
A violet cannon
firing out works of literature.
No longer a pen, but now my friend.
Together, we create art, tell stories.
Not like the ones who scribble empty words -the passion, the inspiration lost-
We writing with purpose,
with pure and true emotion.  
This treasure of mine now fatigued
by the excitement of our adventures, rests.
But only for a little while.
Our journey has just begun.


Need to talk?

If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741