Empty Notebooks

A writer's musings about her journals and writing fits..

I have a stack of notebooks 

Journals, diaries, memory holders

The pages lay blank,

Untouched and unsullied 

Waiting for their mistress’ call

It seems ridiculous, I know, to have such a plethora 

Of empty notebooks and silent pages

But I promise they each have a purpose,

A time and a place 

The most patient of friends

Keeper of secrets

A peculiar trust

Tried, tested, and true 

My empty notebooks wait for me

Holding space for such a time

The world slows down

And I pick up my pen 

And let my heart bleed onto the page