Perceived Only In The Ink

poem on writing and being

 

Perceived only in the ink

The blank page tells our story

No imagination, no being

 

Ink stained hands reaching to touch the existence of life

The blank page tells our story

How am I to make my marks

Will my ink stained fingers leave their print

 

Is our existence only in the ink

Will we be known only on this page

No words, no being

Ink stained fingers reaching to know

 

Reveal your being

Allow my page to be full

Leave your ink print upon my life

Fingers that are writing the story

 

Come to me maker of stories

Reveal your secret life to my book

Leave none of my pages empty

Creator of my story leave your ink upon me

 

I would know this ink,

No matter what it writes

I crave its words and being

Come to me ink stain

Give me meaning

 

© 2007 by Suzanne Deakins

Reviews

[tarasov]

wow. i really like this. the questions it has, the sanzas. i also agree about poetry being about expression i think that's really kool. welcome to Writerscafe. i look forward to reading more :D
Tarasov