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Poem: Thoughts Revealed in Ink and Lead



How beautifully, it seems, my physical world is colliding and intertwining with my spiritual world. 

 I quickly wrote down this poem about my morning's activity of transforming my ongoing journal of ten years (!?) into a bullet(ish) journal. I hope these words can encourage you to take a journey you may have been avoiding. Or acknowledge the beauty of a past you might be ashamed of. Or to maybe even just write it all down and let it be without having any judgement for it, good or bad. Because I guarantee you it will be valuable to someone some day.
Thoughts Revealed in Ink and Lead


 Flipping through the past, numbering pages
Turn by turn, the pen ink changes
Then to pencil, the lead weight softens
Back to pen again, now in color

 Once my thoughts were in black, bold
Then became a bit runny, muddy, black still, though
Scratched out ideas in every other line, corrections, re-directions
(Forget that. It was silly.)

 Then they all turned to grey. Cloudy. Uncertain
The words were sure, naively so
(But the truth rests in the smudges of the eraser)
Still, never to be removed. Only faded with every new read.

And the last of these, the truest thing, etched quickly and plainly
Not once erased, not second guessed. 
Just written, accepted, and left to rest unread.
Sure. Of nothing. 
Fed up. And ready to let go.

And now, I am back to ink. But in blue this time.
Blue like water. Flowing.
Knowing, only, that change can, will, must come. 
Knowing, because it has come.
And it was good. 

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