Studio

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There is a guiltless pen lying still

next to a dog-eared folio of verse

but I know better

It lies still because it fears the hand

The hand that will make it write

the words of fulfilled destiny

It is safe amongst the stained and impure world

The world of which it has no understanding

The skewed pen points away oblique

Reference to an inescapable need

All is mute, but overflowing with a craving

Described in a river of words, the droplets

Of which cannot be separated without evaporating

The whole

The serpentine flow runs poorly contained by ragged banks

Over which it floods and tears unimpeded by rocks to the sea

At the sea, the river blends at that most unique and exciting place of all

The estuary shore, the incubator to fresh life

The cradle of the next day and the next through eons

Despite the pen. The gutless pen cannot stop the river

Or the myriad life which it spews forth

For there is always another hand to make it write

Studio  - The Courage of Intimacy by Keith Ainsworth                                                                                                                                                                              41