My pen is more than just a pen
It bleeds words from the soul
It’s connected to the universe
In ways most will never know
It holds a spark of the divine
It’s more than just a muse
At times the words it pours out
Are sent by my Goddess, too
It isn’t just a plastic Bic
It’s contents made in Taiwan
It contains the dust of galaxies
That many more will cry on
It bleeds the stories of my past
And sometimes the path before me
My pen is more than just a pen
It’s blessed and extraordinary
I’m just the humble servant
Who’s been blessed to write the words
Sent to me through my pen
From the cosmic universe.
~Mandy Kocsis©2023~
But of course a pen is more than a pen! Odd that we, poets all, didn’t ALL choose the humble pen to praise. I love ‘bleeds words from the soul…
spark of the divine…
the dust of galaxies…
I’m just the humble servant.’
Often it does feel like the pen is responsible for what emerges; we just follow along, eager to see what unfolds. Thank you for this!