As I grip the pen my heart pounds
in anticipation of things to come.
My hand moved, the pen leaked,
lines formed, and my eyes watched.
These lines ran around the page
unsure of where there journey would end.
I watch amazed, stoked, and in awe
as they dance with grace patterns forming.
They sing of tales, old and new
of heroes who traveled far and wide.
As the pen stopped I stare astounded,
the end is where it began.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=b-rxnBsbSV8