Waking

Feather quill scratches paper
Feeble vibrations grazes my hand
Vellum's tooth evokes dormant dreams
I know this process from time past
I have seen these images already
Time for spirited imaginings to wake

September 4, 2012

Quill

It started as a blank, once a living tree
Felled and cut to pieces,
Limbs and digits bleached in the sun
Now in this tired fingers I search for its life
Turning it into something to be stained
Into something manipulated and pushed
It becomes an extension of this tired hand
It becomes a tactile voice of these tired eyes

September 3, 2012