The Body of Write

As I hold the pen in my hand,

Waiting to be pressed down on the blank, lined paper,

To form l e t t e r s...

And then to words...

So I can let the ink glide across the page...

And then dr

Op down to the next line...

The words begin to flowtogether.

And I let my hand think,

For my mind is too slow to keep up with.

My hand is furiously writing.

I add the commas and periods.

The semicolons; "quotations", and ellipses…

The question marks and exclamation points where needed.

(Oh, and don't forget the parenthesis)

I break

The lines

And cut the tower of words into

Stanzas.

I read it all over and smile

At the metaphors I created without knowing so.

I summarize it all with a title

That speaks for no summarizing at all.

I rip the page out of my notebook

And I race outside

To let the piece of scribbled paper

Be carried off by the air of the wind.

So the world may stumble upon it.