A Writer, Not Writing

even though

there is not

always that

place in the mind where

one can freely

write,

there is something

comforting

in the friendly

grip of a pen,

the ready rustle

of a blank

page.

for pen and page are

artful dancers, and not

afraid

to take to the

floor;

but if they are

talented dancers,

they are also talented

dreamers,

content to wait for

the words

which they know hover,

hidden,

as yet unbidden,

in the wings,

waiting

to explode into

joyous being

at the

sound of colliding

paper and pen.

so do not

be affronted,

or even

surprised,

at the sight of

a writer,

not writing,

who clutches closely

pen and page,

silent,

unmoving.

for here,

in the hush before the

curtain rolls,

worlds are being

travelled,

space and time

are being

vanquished,

words

are being

born.

© Emma McGeorge