A Writer's Tale by Jan... for me... Thank you, Jan...

There came a morning

when

she woke

and knew

she

should be

a writer.

It was a morning no different

than any other.

It was all in the manner

of her seeing:

It was in the brass key 

whose teeth gleamed

fierce as any lion's

before plunging into the slim

neck of the lock.

It was in the web'd lace

of a blue sweater,

the tender  weave of it 

fragile and vast 

as the fresh spring sky.

It was in the scent of mint,

of rosemary.....

of t(y)ime,

the sharp breath 

of them

jogging upon a foot-loose wind,

casual and intimate

as two old friends upon the Road.

It was in music,

notes laid innocently

bare,

chords 

twined like 

snow-lace upon a winter's

window. 

It was in sunlight,

starlight,

double-be-nighted

night.

It was in  love and silence,

solitary letters 

and

the set-jewels of words.

It was in.....

all.

And that all, she knew,

would ever be

enough. 

With love, on this Yule, 2012,

Jan


True friends inspire me to be more, reach deeper, try harder, see clearer, love richer, dare higher, embrace wider, brave the truth, and reveal vulnerabilities.